Sunset Tears
by Aeltari Kareidis
Summary: *explicit sexual content* Post OC. KC Kyrie's memories are gone. Thinking him dead, she takes her beloved Casavir's hated enemy Bishop into her heart and her body, then learns Casavir is alive in a Luskan prison. Sand re discovers the love of his life!
1. Chapter 1

_This is an AU. I'm not a stickler for accuracy in the details of the Neverwinter world, such as gods etc. but I do try my best. This story does have explicit sexual content, 18+. If you are offended by sexual themes don't start reading! There is artwork for this story at my deviantart account as aeltari._

"Casavir!!" Kyrie's scream echoed through the sleeping cottage, startling the small cat sleeping beside her bed. She sat bolt upright, eyes wide open, unseeing in the deep darkness. She ignored the sudden stab of pain on the left side of her chest, where a jagged, gaping wound had just begun to knit. Her arms flailed in the blackness and she half sat, half crawled across the bed.

"Casavir! Cassi….Cassi…where are you?"

There was no response from the darkness and she stared, trying to force her eyes to accommodate. She began to cry, a soft weeping as she spoke his name, desperation mounting in her voice. She called out again, louder, a hand outstretched. A soft voice whispered her name and she felt arms around her, trying to ease her back down onto the many soft pillows. She was crying openly, grasping at the figure.

"Casavir…my Cassi…" she realized the body she touched was far too slight to have been her beloved and she lashed out with her fists in sudden fear, screaming his name once more. The figure holding her let go and she tumbled onto the bed. There was rustling on the other side of the room and she heard words, chants, and several small glowing rocks sprang into a soft bluish glow.

Distracted from her fear by the ability to see her surroundings, Kyrie sat back sobbing and looked for the figure that had held her and given her light.

Suddenly a door opened ahead, and a dwarf, presumably female, stepped into the room. She saw Kyrie and bustled over, placing a small warm hand on Kyrie's forehead. "Och, ye wee lamb, look at ye, screamin' like a banshee. My poor wee girl. And look now, yer wound is bleedin' again."

She lay Kyrie back firmly against the pillow and set about examining the wound on her chest. Kyrie's eyes scanned the room. It was not a dwarf who had touched her and spoken her name, but she saw no one else. "S….someone was here, someone touched me…" she stared wide eyed at the dwarf. The little lady finished her ministrations and stood up, noticing the bright sunset color of Kyrie's eyes.

"Well now lamb, ye are not a lamb a' tall are ye? More of an angel with those eyes ye are. Now, have ye stopped yer wailin' and can ye talk to Magda now? Ye are safe, lamb. Safe in my home here."

"I…I'm an Aasimar…." Kyrie whispered, trying to explain her eyes, then those eyes filled with tears and her lower lip quivered.

"W...where is Casavir?"

"Cass-a-veer…is that where ye are from, lamb? Is that yer home? I canna say I…"

"No! He is my beloved, we were together, in battle…and…then …" Kyrie realized with horror that she couldn't remember. She remembered disjointed faces, names, places….bits and pieces of battles large and small but her mind would blank suddenly and there were no details. But always in the haze was him, the paladin Casavir who had pledged not only his sword but his heart and his life to her. There was no haze in the memories of their time together; his voice, the feel of his hair beneath her fingers, his lips on hers. Her sunset eyes blinked back more tears, but she couldn't stop them.

The memories hit her in a flash, a thousand images in one split second, and her tears coursed down her cheeks in rivulets. She sobbed, staring at the dwarf helplessly.

Kyrie remembered a night, when was it? Where was it? No details came to save her from the miasma of her fragmented memories. So much passion, Casavir promising her he would never leave her, that he would always be with her, that he would find a way back to her side if they were ever separated. Where was he now? What had happened to separate them? The dwarf watched Kyrie quietly, and then she took her hand.

"Lamb…I don't have answers for ye. Ye were found near death several weeks ago with that terrible wound in yer chest. I've done my best to give ye healin' but it's slow at best out here. I have nothin' to tell ye but that. Do ye remember anything else besides his name? A place maybe, lamb?"

"Several weeks…how did I…did I have anything with me? What of my clothing? What was I wearing?" She looked wildly around the room again, disoriented, frightened.

Magda lay her other hand on Kyrie's forehead and made soothing sounds until Kyrie calmed once more. Then she trundled off to the far side of the room and came back with what looked like a chain mail shirt, a simple ivory colored blouse and a brown nondescript skirt of heavy wool. She opened her hand and showed Kyrie several rings of various metals, some begemmed, some carved.

_"This is lovely Casavir!" Kyrie held her hand out and admired the intricately carved mithril ring. She turned to him and he held out his arms, a shy smile on his lips._

_"Only the best for you, milady. And even that, is not good enough."_

_His kiss was tender as she folded into his embrace. Touching his forehead against hers, Casavir whispered softly. "You are my heart, Kyrie. Without you I would be but a shell of a man, you have shown me that. Did you look closely at the ring?"_

_Kyrie brought her hand close to her eyes. There she could see, entwined among the carvings of roses and vines were the letters K and C…_

"This one, "she whispered tremulously. "He gave me this, look it has our initials."

The dwarf peered closely, nodding. "I see the lettering lamb…and I ask ye…which are ye? This one or this one?" The little lady could not read, nor could she identify the lettering. Kyrie slipped the other rings on her fingers, but she held the carved one to her lips and closed her eyes. "My name is Kyrie, I'm the K…"

Magda smiled sadly.

"So ye have a name then lamb. Kyy-ree. If I hadna told ye before, I am Magda. This is my home, I found ye in the forest by the pond I did. Now….its time for ye to rest." She turned to the table and Kyrie heard her pouring something. She sat on the edge of the bed and held out a small glass. "Here lamb, this brew will make ye tired and keep away the evils. Might it also help with yer wound. Drink it all up now…there's a good lamb."

Kyrie drank it down quickly, then opened the hand that held the mithril ring. She slipped it on her finger and stared at it for a long moment. "Magda…someone was here, they spoke my name and chanted something, magical words…who was it? Where did they go?"

Magda replaced the glass on the table and headed for the door. "Tis a guardian, nothing more. Don't worry yer pretty head for it, it willna hurt ye, lamb. Rest easy now."

Emotionally exhausted, Kyrie fell asleep, lulled in part by the drink and the silence and the soft glow from the stones. She didn't hear the soft voice that returned the room to darkness, nor felt the gentle touch of a pale hand on her brow.

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The soft morning light filtered into the room through a set of gossamer curtains. Kyrie opened her eyes very slowly, still dazed from the drink. Coming back to herself, she turned her head, part of her half expecting to see her beloved Casavir sleeping beside her. But she knew she would not see him.

She had not felt warm, strong arms around her holding her close, and that meant she was alone. A night did not pass between them that did not find her entwined with his body. He did not ever rise from the bed and leave her, instead he would awaken and watch her sleeping, his steely blue eyes awash with love. Kyrie realized that waking up and seeing just a room instead of her lover's eyes was an empty and passionless way to see a new day. She couldn't remember anything aside from him. She tried to put names with the faces that swam in her mind's eye, but she just couldn't remember. She only knew she longed to see some of them, whatever the reason.

Kyrie got slowly out of the bed, the wound in her chest aching slightly. She dropped her pillow and as she bent to retrieve it a cascade of ebony hair fell forward and she touched it as though for the first time_. I have ebony hair_, she thought, _just like Casavir. _It was an odd feeling, even odder to realize she didn't know what she looked like. There was no visible mirror in the room, only the simply carved bed, table and a few chairs, with glowstones attached to the walls in various places.

Kyrie wandered to the window and pulled aside the curtains to look outside. She saw the forest and a few animal pens with cows and a few horses inside. It was sunny, and a breeze ruffled the large tree beside the little cottage. Tears pricked her eyes again.

She turned from the window and looked at the chair which held the chainmail shirt, blouse and the woolen skirt Magda had said she was wearing. Kyrie didn't understand the clothing. Something inside told her that something, many somethings, were missing from that pile. It just seemed as though she should have had far more. She removed the simple linen shift she was wearing and donned the blouse and the wool skirt. There were some worn leather shoes beneath the chair, and as she slipped them on her feet Kyrie was sure that these were not her clothes.

She opened a few of the drawers, unsure of what she was searching for but sure she would know if it were found. There was an old leatherbound journal, an old feather quill, a well of ink and a bowl of sand to absorb it. She also found a small mirror and held it up.

With a gasp Kyrie saw her eyes. She had never imagined such a color before and she touched the edges of her eyes in wonder. Long black lashes that matched her ebony hair fringed them making them even brighter and larger.

_Aasimar._ The word echoed in her mind. What did it mean? She stared into her own eyes for some time, and words began filtering in. _Celestial. Angelic. Outer Planes._

Then she remembered a voice, a rather unemotional male voice from her past telling her that she had a celestial ancestor, and her eyes, the color of a sunset were a _by-product_ of that bloodline. She remembered that the way he had said it made her feel extremely ugly.

She looked at herself again with a critical eye. She had been wrong.

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Magda poured the tea into his cup and shook her head vehemently. "She is just barely with us now, it wouldna do her good for ye to come traipsing back into her life this way with yer stories! By the gods lad, ye heard her wailin' like a banshee in the night! If ye watch her eyes ye see the tortured feelin's crossin' back and forth. Ye canna do it, not yet."

"Watching her eyes is precisely what I had in mind." Said her visitor, sipping the tea. "You don't seem to understand. I have known her for a long time. She is a strong woman. She must know the truth of what happened. Truth has always been the most important thing to Kyrie. I made a promise to her, to always remain true no matter what the cost to myself."

"To yerself lad? What about the cost to her? Her heart is cryin' out for her fella, she willna take lightly to ye tellin' her he's dead. If ye love her lad, let her be. Let her heal some before ye come back. She doesna even know where she's from…"

A soft tinkling stopped them both. The man at the table suddenly rendered himself invisible.

"I will continue to watch her for a short time;" he spoke softly "but I will make myself known to her before too long. Its better that way."

Kyrie heard the dwarf speaking to someone briefly, but hearing no response she wandered into the kitchen. The little lady looked up and smiled warmly.

"Well hello lamb. I tell ye it's nice to have ye walkin' about a tad now."

"Were you speaking to someone Magda?" Kyrie asked looking around. The dwarf shook her head and got up, opening a bread box and bringing out some freshly baked bread and marmalade.

"Just the cat, lamb. She gets into all sorts of things, the wee beastie. She's all I have up here. My boys have all grown up and gone to seek adventure, and their father, well rest his soul has been gone from this world for…." She suddenly stopped, realizing what she was saying.

Kyrie was looking back at her with those remarkable sunset eyes.

"I'm sorry, Magda. That must be very hard for you. I would not last long in this world if my Cassi were gone. But…." She suddenly fingered the mithril ring and closed her eyes.

"But what, lamb?" asked Magda softly.

Those eyes opened and turned to her, alight with certainty and knowledge. "He's not gone. I would know it if he was, and as sure as my love burns for him, he yet lives, and I must find him."

With a sigh of deep sadness, Magda lay a hand on the side of the girl's head, and gave her a small smile of sympathy.


	2. Chapter 2

_This is an AU. I'm not a stickler for accuracy in the details but I do try my best. This story does have explicit sexual content, 18+. If you are offended by sexual themes don't start reading! There is artwork for this story at my deviantart account under aeltari._

He watched from the shadow of the trees, another day out of several, cloaked but still careful to avoid detection. He saw her wander through the garden, often stopping to touch and stare at her ring.

He had never seen her this way, broken and wistful, her hair flowing freely around her. He did not think he had ever seen her wear the accoutrements of a lady, such she had reserved for time away from prying eyes. All these days as he watched her trying to piece together her shattered mind, watched her in restless sleep murmuring prayers to her god Tyr that she didn't remember on waking, his heart ached for her.

He was helpless to watch, knowing and remembering everything she had been, had done. Realizing that to keep his vow to her he would have to shatter the fragile healing she had managed. To him, Kyrie was a warrior, a protector, a beacon of strength to all those who knew her. She had given her life to save not just her own people but the entire free world.

So many times over those years he had approached her with the full intent to tell her how he felt, but something always stopped him. So many days and nights travelling together, sometimes celebrating, and sometimes mourning. When one weakened the other lent their strength. Learning about each other, perfect moments he sometimes wished would freeze…

_Kyrie turned as she heard his footfalls approaching. He had never been one to tread carefully in a forest, the snapping twigs and rustling leaves always gave him away. He was city born and raised, the trappings of finery were always what seemed to interest him most. He was, in truth, a creature of comfort. It was a sacrifice he made to follow her into the wilds, sleeping on the hard ground and drinking from wineskins rather then goblets. A sacrifice he made gladly. _

_Her eyes caught the light of a waning twilight, making them glow even more golden then usual. He felt his breath catch in his throat. Kyrie moved over on the rock she was sitting on, overlooking the valley, and invited him to sit with her._

"_I need to ask you something…sort of an odd question really," she began and his pulse quickened slightly. Her ebony hair, caught up as it always was, allowed a few wispy strands to float in the breeze, tickling his face. He murmured for her to go on._

"_Well, "she responded with a quirky smile. "Your name…"_

_He had laughed and looked over at her, inches away from him as she stared out over the valley. _

_"Sort of a label placed on me by a tutor, when I was yet very young. I had wanted to create a glass scrying orb. It was essential that I first manifest the base material with which to make the glass. When one misspoken word found me standing knee deep in my own beach, I thought I had done something insidious. Of course, I hadn't but the tutor referred to me as Sand from then on. I am, in truth, Althraion of House Nhaereseer. Hmm you know, there is power in true names, you wield this over me now." He said the last with a smile. _

_Kyrie had turned her face to him then, and whispered his name softly. It hung in the air between them and in truth he had never heard it sound so magical. She had leaned closer, as had he and their foreheads touched. He had slipped his arm around her and drew her head down to his shoulder, stroking her hair._

"_What's going to happen to us, all of us?" she asked softly._

"_Truth be told, I don't know. I truly do not know." _

_The twilight was giving way then to the night, and another set of footfalls came upon them. He hadn't let Kyrie go; he wanted that moment to freeze and last for eternity. He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder then, its mate on Kyrie's. The dwarf Khelgar didn't speak a word, but drew on their closeness to fill his own sense of unease. By the time the moon had risen over the valley, the tiefling Neeshka had joined them, as had the druid Elanee. His hand had not left Kyrie's hair, and her head had not moved from his shoulder._

That was the way it was, a time that felt like an entire existence ago. He couldn't recall exactly when he had fallen in love with her. He knew he had been taken in by those oddly colored sunset eyes the moment they were introduced by her uncle Duncan so long ago. It was an alien feeling to him; the only passion he had ever truly known was for his tomes, scrolls and artifacts. He never considered himself "lover" material and aside from an unsuccessful event in his past, he truly never thought the issue would surface in his life again.

He had so often wished his words were as eloquent and poetic as that of Casavir, wished he had known what to say to her and what to do to turn her heart towards him. Kyrie had leaned on him heavily at first, for his knowledge, counsel and friendship and he had felt the change as her attention was slowly diverted to the charismatic, handsome paladin.

He recalled the day he had happened on them together by the river. Until that moment he truly still believed that there was a chance she would somehow see how much he loved her, how much he was willing to do for her. He saw, that day, the way Casavir took her in his arms and kissed her, slowly, passionately. He saw how she looked at him and responded in kind. It was then that he fully realized that Kyrie would never look at him in that way. It did not, however, put out the torch that he carried for her.

When the news had spread that Kyrie, Casavir and Bishop had died during the aftermath of the battle with the King of Shadows, he had hastened to find her. He knew she had not died. A few simple words of magic at the right time during the heat of battle had given him a sort of magical signature with which to find her, should something untowards happen.

It was harder then he thought it would have been, the distance she had somehow been teleported to was far greater then he would have guessed. At first it was simply because Kyrie would need to know that someone else had survived along with her, that she wasn't completely alone.

Then slowly it dawned on him that all of his competition was gone. It had felt like the gods were granting him a second chance. That feeling multiplied when he had found her in the home of the dwarf, completely devoid of her memories. When he realized that she had forgotten everyone aside from her beloved Casavir, he remained positive: if he could help her grieve her loss, perhaps then she would give him her heart as he was still prepared to give his. This time he wouldn't wait, or hesitate. A second chance is a blessing not to be taken for granted.

_Oh, Kyrie_, he thought as he watched her. _How do I do this? How do I keep my promise to you and bring you the truth, a truth that will rend your heart? Am I strong enough to pick up the pieces of your broken heart? My strength has failed me before, with another. I could not stand to lose you also._

Kyrie looked up from her reverie when she heard the voice. It was the voice that had spoken in her darkened room and lit up the glowstones. The one Magda called 'a guardian'. He stood behind her.

"Kyrie…my dear…I…I have watched you, guarded you for some time, since the dwarf found you in the forest. You look well, I must say."

"Who are you? Do I know you?"

He stepped around to stand in front of her. She looked up into an elven face, the expression kind, the lips slightly turned up at the corners. His tilted, sky blue eyes were intense, and he looked at her for some time without speaking. Dark hair hung down his shoulders and around his face. The robes he wore looked to be of the finest quality. He was quite obviously a wizard of some sort.

As he looked down at her, Sand realized that Magda had been right, emotions crossed back and forth across those eyes of hers as she tried to remember.

"You…you are familiar to me, but I can't remember…you were there…you were with us, with me and Cassi…" Her eyes suddenly widened and she jumped up from the bench. "Casavir! If you know me, then you must know where my beloved is! Please, oh please tell me, I am lost without him!"

She took his hands and held them, staring into his eyes expectantly. The elf sighed and raised one of her hands to his cheek for a moment, then pulled her back down to the bench, sitting beside her.

"Kyrie, I am Althraion Nhaereseer, one of your oldest friends. You know me also as Sand…" His eyes looked expectantly into hers, realizing that he had hoped she would recognize him instantly and be overjoyed to see him.

He did not know what to do with her confused, blinking stare. He berated himself for having foolishly thought she would throw her arms around him, instantly remembering everything. He knew better, but his mind and his heart were no longer connected.

"You extracted a promise from me once that I swore to uphold. That is why I am here now. Yes, I was there. Yes, I know where Casavir is. All of your memories, everything you have forgotten, I remember."

Kyrie's eyes flickered as she heard the pain in his voice, something was definitely not right. "Tell me, tell me where my Cassi is."

Her voice and her hands were shaking. She pulled them from his, and placed them tightly in her lap. The breeze blew her ebony hair around her face, making her sunset eyes glow even brighter. Gods, she was beautiful to him. The insanity that was love, turning his mind to a befuddled mess, swirling his thoughts and words around until he did not know what to say first.

"Kyrie, you must know first that we fought for our lives against a great evil. The wound in your chest is where a piece of a shard once lay. A shard that was part of a silver sword that you had remade for this great battle. I do not know how it was removed. Nor do I know how you got to be here in this forest, so far from home. My scrying tells me much, but also tells me nothing at times. Usually, this is when I need it most. However, I digress. You almost gave your life in this battle. The fortress in which we fought was held together by the essence of this evil, and when it was destroyed the fortress began to crumble."

Kyrie frowned at him. Flashes of memory came to her, sounds of battle, of pain…the screams of her friends…running, terror…blackness. The horror must have reflected in her eyes, for the elf Althraion reached up and lay a hand on her cheek for a moment. He stroked the smooth strands of her hair as the breeze continued to toss it about.

"It came down around us, Kyrie. The druid, Elanee transformed into a cat and ran. I protected myself with my spells. I saw Ammon Jerro take a terrible blow from falling stone and …I'm sorry I don't think he got up again. I lost track of the others, but Khelgar, the little Tiefling, and _you_ ran ahead of me…"

"Please…enough of this. These names, I don't …I don't know. You haven't told me…my Cassi…" her chest was constricting slowly, her every breath became shorter and shorter. Her eyes begged for the truth, but her heart was screaming for him to silence his words.

Sand reached an arm around her shoulders and tried to pull her near. She broke away from his touch, and stared at him, beseeching him.

"Gods, Kyrie…how do I tell you this? There was a doorway, and a massive slab of stone came down beside it. The door was torn off and the sides collapsed inwards. Casavir reached it and held it up, his back against the rock. He pushed the demon girl through but you fought him. You insisted on staying with him and would not go. It was you who shoved me through the wreckage. Kyrie…I turned around to pull you with me but you would not leave Casavir. He shouted at you…."

"_GO! Milady, please! RUN! I cannot hold this much longer!" Casavir's face was contorted with pain and effort. Blood ran down his beautiful face as rocks continued to fall on and around him. _

_Kyrie, sobbing, pulled his hand, screaming for him to let go and run with her. A fist sized rock slammed into his shoulder, bouncing off his armor and hitting his face. Blood flowed from the fresh wound. _

_The weight of the wall section was too much, his leg muscles were burning. "Kyrie! Do not let all of this be in vain! Get out of here! NOW. Remember my words. I will find you! Go with Sand! GO KYRIE RUN! I love you!" _

_Kyrie felt a hand in hers, pulling her away. She felt Casavir wrench her hand loose from his and push her away, saw tears mingling with the blood running down his face. As she was pulled down the shaking, crumbling hallway screaming his name, she turned one last time and saw him half leap, half fall away from the tumbling wall…_

"…and you vanished before my eyes into a portal that winked out the moment you entered it, I didn't see who had…"

Kyrie interrupted and looked up at him, eyes wide and hands trembling. "But I saw Cassi, he got out from under the stones when we ran!"

The elf realized she had not heard most of his words. "Kyrie…he was … killed. He never made it out of the fortress. I'm sorry, I'm just so terribly sorry."

Anger flooded her face. The sunset eyes turned dark. She pushed him away and stood up, her voice hard as fought the hysteria building up inside her.

"You say you are my friend, yet you come here and tell me my beloved, my life…is dead? No, Sand, he is NOT dead. I would know if he were and he is NOT. Something happened to him yes, but it is not death. He made me a vow that no matter what happened he would find me. And he shall. Now go. Leave me."

Sand looked helplessly up at her, his lips parted to speak, but no words came to his mind. Kyrie turned angrily and ran back to the house, sobs forcing themselves out.

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Magda held the sobbing Kyrie, murmuring words of comfort, just as she had done to her own boys so long ago. She was upset at the wizard for having brought the world down around the lovely girl's ears, but was there truly a good time to tell someone the love of their life had died saving them? How could such news ever come at a good time?

Kyrie held onto the little dwarven lady. "Why could he say such a cruel thing to me? The first of my friends to find me, and he says…he says…" the tears started anew.

Magda pushed her up to a sitting position and wiped the tears from Kyrie's face.

"Now, lamb, listen to old Magda some. Ye dinna remember anythin' that happened to ye. Ye made him promise ye somethin' and he's doin' what ye asked of him. Only a true and good friend would risk so much to keep his word. Words are easily broken in this world, ye find someone whose willin' to risk it all to keep theirs, ye shouldna be too hard on them. He came here when I found ye, told me such a terrible story he did, asked me to mind ye and heal ye and give ye a home til ye came 'round, he did. He loves ye, lamb. He said he woulda died for ye and would do so again. He knows ye hurt, gods he knows it but he's a good man, for one such as he. Loyal, like me cat."

Magda tried to make her smile with that last little quip, and it worked. The edges of Kyrie's lips turned up slightly. Magda smoothed the disheveled ebony hair.

"Lamb, you need to do what yer heart tells ye. If it tells ye to go home, then go. If it tells ye to stay here, then this is your home also. I know how it feels me wee love, losin' yer fella that way…it pains me to see ye suffer but there's no I can do for ye." The dwarf looked away for a moment, a heavy sigh escaping her lips.

"M…Magda, Cassi isn't dead." The words were spoken with a certainty, the golden eyes large and sure.

"Och lamb, why do ye say that again? It isna doing ye good te…"

"He's _not_. He's not dead. I…I know. Surely as I know your cat is curled up on the porch, I know my Cassi is still alive. Something happened to separate us but…but he's not dead!" The eyes gazed imploring at Magda, and the little lady's heart fell to her feet with a clump. Poor child, she faced a long and painful journey to heal her broken heart.

Then from nowhere she remembered something from her past, from when her boys had been babes in arms. A gypsy caravan had travelled through and asked for a safe place to spend the night. Magda and her man had readily agreed; gypsies brought good fortune, and much mirth. One of the gypsies had silver hair, and golden eyes just like the girl's. She told Magda that she was descended from a celestial, a magical being gifted with great powers. As a result of this bloodline the gypsy was able to scry into people's lives and know things about them that only they knew. A fortune teller of sorts, but in reverse. She said it helped her understand folks better, knowing where they came from and what they had suffered in their lives. Magda had thought that a wonderful gift indeed. Could it be possible that this girl had a similar gift as a result of _her_ bloodline? If so, that would discount her certainty as being simple grieving denial. Perhaps she truly did have knowledge that she could not explain.

"Lamb, ye told me once about yer eyes, ye called yerself something, what was it again? Me mind isna too sharp these days."

"I am Aasimar," said Kyrie softly.

"What does that mean exactly, lamb?"

"Someone in my bloodline, somewhere was a Celestial, a being from another plane."

"So ye _are_ half an angel then!"

Kyrie shook her head. "No, not half, but some."

Magda nodded in understanding, and recounted her tale of the gypsy. She asked Kyrie if perhaps her Aasimar blood gave her some special abilities.

"I…I don't know. I don't know where I'm from, who my family is. Magda, you said I could go home…where is my home?"

The dwarf gave a small smile and said gently. "I don't know, wee lamb, but if ye can find it in yer heart te forgive him, I think maybe the wizard knows."

Kyrie pulled her hair to one side and began plaiting it slowly, not speaking. "I don't remember him, just that day, the day he says that…that…" The golden eyes filled up again, but Magda patted Kyrie's knee firmly.

"Now now lamb, I think we have gotten some idea that ye may be onto something about your Casee-veer there. Yer heart may know things yer mind hasna been able to remember yet. No more frettin' wee one."

Kyrie finished the plait and curled up on the couch. Within minutes she had fallen into a deep sleep, and an invisible hand pulled a soft wool blanket over her.


	3. Chapter 3

_This is an AU. I'm not a stickler for accuracy in the details of the Neverwinter universe such as gods etc. but I do try my best. This story does have explicit sexual content, 18+. If you are offended by sexual themes don't start reading! There is artwork for this story at my deviantart account under aeltari._

For several days, Sand watched Kyrie, unseen. He saw her learn to care for the farm animals, eventually trying her hand at hitching up a horse to a cart. He watched her climb on the fence to reach the horse's back, and ride off to the river, or through the fields for hours at a time.

Color returned to her face, and she began to smile more. One cool evening, Kyrie emerged from the little house and sat on the porch stairs, looking out over the yard. Magda had gone out to visit her neighbours in her little goat cart, and the cat sought out a warm lap and climbed into Kyrie's. She absently stroked the soft fur.

There was a disturbance in the air, and she felt something being draped around her neck. Raising her hand, she pulled away a finely carved necklace, tens of tiny leaves and flowers wrapped around a vine, carved from a bright silver metal and adorned with tiny red gems.

_It was midday; the heat in the sun was oppressive. Kyrie sat with her back to a rock by the river, her boots beside her, her feet dangling in the water. _

_Tomorrow they would head off to Old Owl Well, where an orcish uprising was causing big troubles for a member of the King's personal guard. She was tired of travelling, tired of fighting, tired of trying to be strong for her friends. _

_She had watched a guardsman propose to his sweetheart on the battlement of Forte Locke, attended the wedding and celebrated with the happy couple. Her heart ached. Love seemed something so remote, so untouchable for one such as her. Who would want to romance a child of the Mere of Dead Men? Who would want to dance with a lady whose body was covered with mithril and plate? What beauty lay in a face sometimes bruised and battered by battle, hair never allowed to flow free? What charms could possibly be found in eyes the color of a sunset and hair the color of midnight? No, love was something that would not find her. Love, children, the trappings of normality were not written into her destiny and she would be well versed to remember that._

_"May I join you?" Sand smiled down at her, and at a nod he lowered himself to the ground beside her. He held a box in his hands, and placed it into her lap._

_"I had this made for you in town. There was an artisan there, and he was elven like myself. Elven crafters are quite adept at their chosen craft. I do hope you will like it, I know it may not be quite what you are used to, but nonetheless, there it is then."_

_Kyrie had opened the hand carved box, and lifted out the most intricate, beautiful necklace she had ever seen. Tiny leaves, with flowers set in red gemstone, were carved around a vine of the purest silver. The tiny leaves tinkled when they moved. In all her days, Kyrie had never beheld such finery. Her hands felt clumsy, unworthy to hold such a delicate gift. Tears she would not allow stung her eyes and she turned to Sand._

_"I don't deserve such a lovely gift, Sand. It's far too beautiful, for one such as I. My clumsy hands might shatter it." _

_He had simply smiled and taken it from her. _

_"It is not meant for your hands, Kyrie." He placed it around her neck, and then gently brushed her cheek. Cupping her face in his hands, he touched his forehead to hers, longing to kiss her, not daring to make so bold a move…_

Kyrie stood up and turned around, the necklace falling from her hands to the porch floor, the cat running off with a vocal complaint. Sand looked at her, the sky blue eyes full of regret. She stepped up towards him slowly, eyes level with his.

"I, remember…the sun, the river, the …the box…"

He nodded slowly, barely breathing. Her eyes were wide, liquid gold, her hair hanging loose around her face. She raised her hands to his face, fingertips gently tracing his eyes, his cheeks. A feeling of certainty, of hidden knowledge flowed over her again. Memories whose details would not reveal themselves, easily gave up their collective feelings with a rush.

"You wanted, you…wanted..." her voice trailed off as she touched her lips to his.

He didn't move, didn't dare to breathe. This woman, whose heart he had sought after for so long, whose lips he dreamed of, whose body he longed for.

Kyrie stepped back. "You couldn't tell me how you felt, all those times when I was alone and hurting, you just watched me and didn't say a word. Why, Althraion? Why didn't you tell me how you felt before Old Owl Well, when you gave me this gift? Those days, those nights when Cassi and I were first getting to know each other, you had so many chances but you just let me go. Why?"

Sand was trembling. "Because I thought you could never want me."

Kyrie shook her head sadly. "But I did, Sand. I did."

The air displaced, and he vanished.

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The nightmare tore through Kyrie's dream with a vengeance.

_The scent of burning flesh, the sound of horrified, tortured screams replacing the soft memory of a softly playing flute, and two strong loving arms holding her gently. _

_She found herself standing in a dark room facing a figure hanging on the wall in chains, blood oozing from several slash wounds on the body. The head hung down, what was left of the man's clothing hung in tatters. _

_She could smell blood and waste, could hear moans and screams bouncing off the walls, prayers unheard being whispered in desperation. _

_Occasionally a malicious laugh would echo from deep within that hellish place. _

_Kyrie's breath grew shallower and shallower. She was sure she was asleep, but at the same time she felt as though she were truly standing in that place of death. _

_The figure on the wall moved slightly and raised his head. Kyrie heard a woman's terrible heart rending scream and realized it was coming from her. _

_The man's eyes had opened and he had stared right at her, eyes of bright blue, in a face battered and bruised and covered with blood._

Casavir.

Kyrie screamed.

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"There is no denying it, wizard. She has the power of the sight. We canna keep her here, she needs to go home and find her fella." Magda was packing up several pieces of dried meat, cheese and bread, and filling two wineskins with well water. "I willna have her here cryin' for him when the seein' comes upon her, not when ye can help her find him."

Sand paced back and forth in the small kitchen. "I saw his funeral rites, Magda. I saw the coffin, I saw them place it in the ground. I have been to his gravestone myself! I'm not denying her celestial bloodline affords her some visions but this is preposterous, not to mention unhealthy."

Magda stopped and gave him a hard look. "Do ye love her, wizard? I mean truly love her, from here." She thumped her chest.

Sand nodded miserably.

"Well then do ye want this to lay between ye? The knowledge that the man she loves may be dyin', that ye didna believe her when it mattered the most. Do ye know what faith is, wizard?" The little dwarf touched his chest with a finger. "Its believing in something ye canna see, trusting when all the signs point elsewhere." She continued her frenetic activity, tying shut the packs and dumping them in Sand's arms.

"Dig up that coffin if ye must, lad. Do what ye have to do to assure yerself, and her. Only then can ye be free to love her with nothin' between ye. And if it doesna come to pass, that means it was never meant to, and ye must walk a different road. The wee lamb was right when she told ye to be true. Now go. Take her home before ye make this old dwarf weep."


	4. Chapter 4

_This is an AU. I'm not a stickler for accuracy in the details of the Neverwinter universe such as gods etc. but I do try my best. This story does have explicit sexual content, 18+. If you are offended by sexual themes don't start reading! There is artwork for this story at my deviantart account under aeltari._

They had been walking in silence along the dusty road for several hours. Kyrie had refused to take any of Magda's horses, taking only a few woolen blankets and the foods. It was a slightly tearful goodbye, Kyrie not being sure when she would ever see the kind dwarf again, and Magda felt as she did the day her boys left home.

She gave Kyrie a small leather thong with a stone wrapped in wire at the end. In it was carved a dwarven rune. She had told Kyrie it was the rune that meant _love_ and folded it into her hands. Then she had trundled off back to her house without a backward glance.

The day was long, and as much as Kyrie and Sand often walked in silence, there were times of reflective conversation as well.

"Sand, "she asked. "Have you ever been in love?"

Such a straightforward question, but so complicated to answer. "Well, I don't really know what to say. Many years ago, in Luskan when I was part of the Hosttower there was a woman. I first saw her on the streets in the worst part of town. Mind you, all of Luskan is pretty horrid but this part was a guaranteed death sentence if you spent enough time there. She was a singer, a dancer, whatever it took to turn a coin. Had a real mouth on her too, and a mind to match."

Sand smirked in memory and Kyrie glanced at him, intrigued.

"Was she beautiful?"

He nodded with a smile. "Very. Eyes the color of a rather stormy ocean I would say."

"Did she love you back?"

Sand gave a snort. "I spent almost every penny I could scrounge up in hopes that she might. I was young and foolish."

"What happened to her?"

Sand shook his head. "She got involved in some things, dark things. Time passed, my life changed…the usual story…but for awhile, gods I wanted her!"

Kyrie smiled. A breathtaking desire for someone was a feeling she knew too well. They walked on in silence for some time.

"Kyrie," Sand's voice broke through her thoughts. "The other night, what you said to me. Am I to understand then that you remember me…us?"

Kyrie stopped walking and faced him. "I remembered that day, when you gave me this necklace, but it was different. I felt things from your perspective also, which I know I couldn't have when it was happening. I felt how much you cared for me, and this sense of longing…it was overwhelming."

"I was in love with you, Kyrie." Sand said in a near whisper. "And I foolishly thought that somehow you would magically see it without me having to say anything. I hoped that the moments we had between us would somehow turn things from friendship to something more…"

"What about now, Althraion?" she spoke his true elvish name gently, making him sigh deep inside.

"I accepted that you had…have...found what, rather who, your heart desires, but I am saddened that it is not me. Although I cannot be sure, I dont believe I knew what love felt like until I travelled with you. I will always be your friend, Kyrie. A friend who loves you more then you may ever know. I wish to ask you something however, and ask only that you respond with complete honesty."

Kyrie smiled into the light blue eyes, and nodded.

"We cannot know what lies ahead for either of us. If things do not turn out as you pray they will, would you consider me?"

Kyrie leaned close to him, and her answer was a tender kiss. No more needed to be said.

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It was odd to Sand how Kyrie followed him, happy just to go wherever he led. He found himself remembering the days when it was he who followed her.

He had always wanted to know where they were going, what they were doing, and who they would be doing it _with, for,_ or _to_. Kyrie just floated along behind him, content to go where he went, trusting that eventually he would lead her home. He had not thought to ask her what "home" meant to her. He realized with concern one evening that perhaps she had no notion of what her home had actually been.

They sat beside the fire at an inn, sipping mead and nibbling on sweet meats.

"Kyrie, I'm just curious what you remember about your home, if anything at all."

She smiled at him and shrugged. "Well, I don't remember anything but I have a notion of what it will be like, care to hear it?"

"Mmhmm" he said.

"Its larger then Magda's, with a barn and several horses and dogs. I suppose there is a vegetable patch and a garden as well, perhaps even a pond. There are probably many portraits on the walls of my friends, the people who swim through my mind. And my bedroom…well rather, Cassi's and mine, is filled with flowers and glowstones. Perhaps even a servant or two. Did you live near me, Sand?"

Sand looked at her as she happily popped a sweet meat into her mouth. She sure had no memory of the Keep.

"Truthfully, Kyrie, you do have all of those things. But I don't think you realize the context of it all."

"Oh? Well, tell me!"

"Your home is a Keep. Hundreds of servants, a lake, many portraits on the walls, many farms and merchants. It's truly a sight to behold. I do live with you, as did all of us. We all had rooms in the keep near you. You didn't want it any other way."

"That sounds so lovely, Sand. What did I do there? Was I a member of the militia? The battle you told me about, and this wound…you said I had a sword, I can't imagine holding a sword!"

Sand shook his head and leaned back, running a hand through his long black hair. She had no memory whatsoever of anything. He didn't wish to influence her, but there were things she needed to know in case her memory didn't come back.

"Kyrie, you were indeed part of a militia but surely not in the way you may imagine. You were a member of the King's elite bodyguards, the Neverwinter Nine. Lady Kyrie, you were not only that, but the Lord of Crossroad Keep, its Knight Captain."

Kyrie stopped drinking and put her chalice down. "I…was a Knight?" Her brow furrowed as she tried to remember, but nothing came forth.

"I can't remember anything, Sand. A Knight, they are supposed to be strong, and brave, loyal and honorable, just and compassionate. I'm none of those things!"

Sand had to laugh. "Kyrie! You are _all_ of those things and more. You showed compassion, forgiveness, and mercy towards those who had caused you much harm. Even the darkest of our companions loved you, in their own way. The priests said you were a favored of Tyr himself. Even Casavir was in awe of you. How else could you have won over that do-gooder?"

Kyrie's head hung down, she studied her hands. Sand didn't realize for awhile that she was weeping quietly. When she finally raised her head her face was wet with tears. "If I was its Knight Captain, and I'm here, what happened to all the people that I looked after? What happened to the others?"

He took her hands in his. "And you say you are not a Knight. Kyrie, your people are safe because of you. They are alive, and waiting for their Knight Captain to come home. As for our friends, we will find everyone who survived. One way or the other we will find out what happened, I promise you this."

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It was midday when they came to the edge of a town. The sun was high, their stomachs empty and the wineskins no longer contained a drop of water.

Kyrie had been dragging her heels for the last several days, needing to rest more then usual. Sand worried that her emotional state and the horrifying visions she would often suffer were wearing her down. He talked to her often of their friends, trying to jog her memory. Sometimes a snippet or two would come to her, and as with all her memories, she was privy to the emotions of the subject as well as her own. Kyrie began to lean on those memory flashbacks to help her piece things together. More often then not she would awaken at night, screaming for Casavir, and would be inconsolable for hours. Sand would sit with her until she fell asleep, then try and catch a few hours himself.

Occasionally a travelling bard would appear at the taverns and sing, the most requested songs would ironically be the story of the Knight Captain of Crossroad Keep, who defeated the King of Shadows. Kyrie would listen, and weep softly, but her mind could not bridge the gap. One bard sang about a legendary love between two warriors of Tyr, who were torn apart by death. Kyrie had no inkling that this song too was about her and Casavir, but she always cried and bought the bard a drink.

Several times when Kyrie had gone to rest, Sand would overhear bits of conversation between the bar patrons about a Luskan prisoner of war, taken from Neverwinter on suspicion of murder. Depending who was doing the talking, the rumor was either deep sympathy for the prisoner, or joy in serving up justice for the so called murderer who had once been a follower of Tyr.

Many just dismissed them as exaggerated war stories and tales to frighten children.

One night, after Kyrie had had her heart torn apart by another vision of Casavir, Sand had gone to the tavern and ordered a few drinks. He couldn't get her heart rending sobs out of his mind, so when a reeking, unkempt man sat beside him and started talking, Sand allowed the distraction and didn't try and silence him.

Conversation around them turned to the recent war of the shadows, and this man piped up with his opinion that half the group that had defeated the King of Shadows had gone over to the dark side. Sand's ire was raised, and continued to raise with every word the uncouth fellow uttered. The man turned out to be Luskan, and his story froze the blood in Sand's veins.

"Yeah, I was on duty that one day, when they brought that murd'rer in from Ne'erwinter. Self righteous bastard that one. Murdered th' ambass'dor in cold blood."

"What ambassador would that be?" asked Sand out of morbid curiosity. The man was beginning to slur his words, and Sand was sure half of them were products of a drunken imagination.

"Natale. Wen' to some Keep some'ere for peace talks and this sunavabitch up and kills 'er and 'er guards." He drained his glass and clamored for another.

"They foun' 'im in the ruins of that...that shadow place." he continued. "Brought 'im back to life in some mon'stery an' he says hes a pal'din of Tyr."

Sand's breath caught in his throat. Sydney Natale had tried to murder Kyrie, the Githzerai cleric Zhjaeve and the insane pyromaniac sorceress Qara after luring them under false pretenses away from the Keep several months ago! Kyrie and the others had prevailed by turning her guard against her and killing the ambassador in self defense. However, no one else had been with them.

"I see, "said Sand trying to keep the emotion out of his voice, but his hands were shaking. "So what happened to this man?"

"Went up to the court house, then to the _raknah_. My brother is a guard there, they ha' a good time wit' this pris'ner. Got his arse up in chains on the wall, beat 'im daily…" the man's malicious laughter curdled Sand's blood. "No way no how they gon' let 'im die. Even got clerics to keep 'im alive, yeah. Barely but alive jus' the same. Piece 'o cow dung gots it comin' to him anyways, story is 'e was consort or what'ere to some trouble maker from Neverwinter. Bah, n'eer min' that place is leagues from 'ere they can 'ave it. I gots me a treasure map, gonna make my fortune, yeah."

The Luskan got up from the bar, stumbling over first the stool, then the table, then his own feet. Sand watched him for a moment til he exited the tavern. Then he paid his tab and followed.

The man had stumbled several minutes down the road, when Sand teleported in front of him.

"Wha….where'd you come from….?" The drunk asked, weaving unsteadily on his feet.

Sand heard Kyrie's sobs in his mind, and he wrinkled up his nose in a snarl. A rage was building in his chest. "You said the followers of the Knight Captain of Crossroad Keep turned to the darkness. Some of them died saving pathetic, writhing worms like yourself. What say you to that?"

The Luskan didn't say a word, just hiccuuped and stood staring blankly. Sand's eyes narrowed and darkened, his voice now a low growl.

"You judge these people with no evidence, you lie, steal, cheat and murder as a matter of course to satisfy your own depraved desires. You are not worthy of the sacrifice made by the Knight Captain and her friends. You are not worthy to look upon the man you hold and torture in the _raknah. _There is a place for monsters like you, and I aim to send you there."

All the man could see was the almost white glow of Sand's enraged eyes. Terrified, he took a swing but missed, setting himself off balance.

He clawed the empty air, shouting "Git away from me ya demon spawn!"

Sand made no move, just watched the man work himself into a frenzy. Then he began to chant.

Fire sprang to life around his hands.

"This warrior of the light whose life you wish to snuff out. He has a name! You shall know it before you know oblivion!"

Sand threw two white hot fireballs to either side of the Luskan who was backing up in horror. He tripped and fell backwards staring up in horror at the wizard who hissed at him.

"Sir Casavir de Chantraine, Paladin of Tyr!"

Flame engulfed him, and he burned screaming for a long time before the darkness consumed him.


	5. Chapter 5

_This is an AU. I'm not a stickler for accuracy in the details of the Neverwinter universe such as gods etc. but I do try my best. This story does have explicit sexual content, 18+. If you are offended by sexual themes don't start reading! There is artwork for this story at my deviantart account under aeltari._

Sand and Kyrie wandered into the tiny village and sought out the well. Refilling their wineskins they stopped and looked around. A few children played with a leather ball, a couple of dogs muzzled around in the grass. A man rode by in a goat cart, followed by a young lady leading a brown and white cow. The village felt serene. Life just seemed to happen, unmolested by evil and the threat of darkness. They continued through, purchasing some more bread and cheese.

At the far edge of the village was a small cottage. A young woman with shoulder length auburn hair stepped out of a little wooden gate. She looked up and smiled, most likely expecting a friend or a neighbor. As her eyes met Sand's, there was a flash of recognition in the young woman's eyes and they grew large. She backed away a few steps and turned to go back into her yard.

Kyrie saw Sand make a quick motion with his hand and suddenly the woman could move no longer.

"Well, where are you going?" he asked amiably. "That's no way to treat an old friend, is it?"

The look on his face was one of pure amusement. Kyrie was confused. She looked at Sand quizzically but before he could respond, a little pale haired girl ran from the house to the gate.

"Momma! Come see! I made the feather stand up by itself!"

The young woman stood looking helplessly at the child. "Mama can't right now Marian. Please go inside. Your brother will be home soon."

The look on Sand's face turned from amusement to surprise as he watched Marian obediently do as she was asked. The young woman's voice contained a trace of fear.

"Sand, please release the bonds. My children need me. This is...a different time and a different place now...please..."

Sand walked over and stood in front of her. He tilted his head left to right, as if analyzing the young woman.

"As I live and breathe. Torio? A mother? And then now tell me, from where did you steal these children? I can't imagine they are yours."

Kyrie joined them and looked quizically at Sand then at the young woman. The latter's eyes refused to meet hers.

"Well met," said Kyrie softly. "My name is Kyrie. I see that you are aquainted with my friend Sand. What are you called?"

The young woman looked up at Sand with a frown and he simply raised his eyebrows and shrugged slightly. She turned and looked at Kyrie with a tentative smile.

"My name is Torio Claven," she said simply. "This is my home."

Just then an elderly man shuffled outside towards them. He walked with a cane and even with its assistance struggled with each step. Torio looked over at him and her eyes filled with concern.

"Grandfather! Please stop!"

To Sand, she said "Please let me go, he will fall if I don't help him!"

The old man stopped and peered in their direction. "Do we have guests, Torio? Why leave them standing outside? Please bring them in so we can have lunch. Come now."

Kyrie looked at Sand, her eyebrows raised in question. He motioned with his hand, and Torio moved quickly to the old man's side.

She helped him back into the house and called out for Kyrie and Sand to follow.

As they sat down at a rectangular wooden table, the pale little girl named Marian, walked up to Sand. She stood staring at him for a long moment, then she reached out and touched his face for a few seconds.

Sand didn't move, but Kyrie saw a smile flit across his face momentarily. Marian lifted her other hand and showed him a large feather, soft pink with streaks of black and grey. She held it up in front of his face then let go, the feather remaining there as if held by an invisible string.

The child's intense violet eyes never left his face.

"Oh, now that's very good!" exclaimed Sand. "Can you do this?"

He held his closed fist in front of her, spoke a few words and opened his hand. A rose floated there created entirely of flame.

Marian's eyes widened and she smiled. She tried to repeat his words, and opened her little hand to a rather sad, wilted flame that only lasted a moment.

It was Sand's turn to look astonished. The incantation was a difficult one, most assuredly not able to be recited by a child. He spoke the words again, slower, and the child repeated them. This time a tiny rose appeared for a moment before vanishing. Marian looked at him intensely, then her face broke out in a smile and she suddenly threw her arms around him.

Surprised, Sand caught the child and hugged her, his eyes closed, a smile on his lips.

Kyrie suddenly felt like crying. Overwhelming emotion washed over her in a flood. Her eyes filled quickly with tears and her eyes met a puzzled Torio's across the kitchen.

Shaking, Kyrie fled from the room and ran outside.

She hadn't been out there long when she heard footfalls behind her and felt a warm hand on her shoulder as she tried to control the sobs that tore from her. Turning slightly she saw Torio's pretty face looking concernedly back at her, and the young woman embraced her tightly.

She stroked Kyrie's hair, speaking words of comfort that seemed part of a relationship between them that that the sobbing Kyrie couldn't recall.

"'Im ever so sorry Kyrie. My heart bleeds for you, truly it does. I'm so sorry."

"I cant remember them! I had friends, I see them in my mind but…their names, their stories, why cant I remember? And… you, I feel as though I should know you, but I don't. And…and Cassi, we planned to…to…"

Kyrie sobbed uncontrollably until she could cry no more. She allowed her tears to subside, and wiped the leftover ones away with the back of her hand. Trying to smile through her tears she apologized for putting wet spots on Torio's shoulder.

"Please don't apologize for that. I deserve a lot worse." said Torio softly.

"What makes you say that? You said sorry...did Sand tell you, about...me? Or..."

Kyrie's eyes lit up. "Do you remember me? Do you know who I am?"

She didn't see Sand behind her, shaking his head slowly at Torio before stepping back into the shadows.

"Yes. I know you. I was...well, terribly unkind to you once. I have made some very bad mistakes and done many things I'm not proud of but...despite all of that you showed me mercy. I never forgot that. It was the first true mercy anyone had ever shown me in my life"

Torio's voice wavered.

"I owe you my life, Kyrie" she said softly, turning away to hide a tear, which she wiped away roughly. She looked long into Kyrie's eyes, then gently drew her fingers down the other woman's face.

"You deserve so much more then what happened. So much more. Both of you, deserved at least a happy ending, after the ..."

Kyrie grabbed Torio's hands. "What are you talking about Torio? Both of us...do you mean me and Sand? After what?"

Torio shook her head, a puzzled look on her face. "N..no. You and Casavir, the paladin...that was his name wasn't it? Weren't you betrothed or something? I thought that..." she looked up suddenly and saw Sand again, a storm brewing on his face.

Kyrie followed her gaze and turned. Sand strode menacingly towards Torio.

"I should silence you permanently, if not for those children." he said slowly and venomously. "Your mouth, Torio Claven, has caused FAR too much hurt to FAR too many people in its time."

Kyrie shook her head at Sand and said rather harshly "No, Sand stop this!"

Turning back to the auburn haired woman, Kyrie bit her lower lip and whispered. "What happened to my Cassi...Torio please if you know, tell me."

Kyrie felt the trembling inside her again, the desperate desire to hear the truth, but also to squelch it if it was not what she wanted to hear.

Torio looked defeated. Her shoulders slumped, her arms hung resignedly by her side.

"He died saving your life, yours and your friends. He was accorded full military honors and buried..." She cut off when she saw Kyrie slowly shake her head no.

The sunset eyes were filled with tears again, but her jaw was firm, lips tight. She raised her hands to Torio's shoulders and shook her, hard.

"NO. Don't you EVER say that to me. Not NOW, not EVER. My Cassi is NOT dead. I would KNOW. Do you hear me? Both of you? He is NOT dead. NOT!"

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"She's right you know." said Torio, looking down on Sand from the top of the stairs. "Casavir isn't dead. You know it too. And you aren't even going to do a damn thing about it, are you Sand? You call yourself her friend, and you won't even help her. In fact, have you even told her this?"

The ice dripping from Torio's voice didn't phase him and he looked back at her with a sneer.

"Aren't _we_ the self righteous one? Weren't _you_ the same one who framed then had her tried for the murder of an entire town? Weren't _you_ the one who wanted to see her executed? Hmm? Torio? As I recall, it was _you_ who wanted nothing more then to see us all enslaved by the King of Shadows. And why _was_ that Torio? Your lover, Garius promise you a world of power? We all know how _that_ turned out hmm? Does your Grandfather, or whoever he is, know this? What about your children...and I _still_ don't believe you didn't steal them from some unsuspecting mother somewhere. That would be just like you wouldn't it?"

Torio's face changed. She walked slowly, heavily, down the stairs and faced him, pain and rage in her eyes.

"Yes, it would." she snarled. "It would be _just_ like the girl from Luskan whose father tried to stab her to death in her sleep."

She tore open her blouse and showed him the ugly jagged scars on her shoulders and chest that marred the soft pale skin of her breasts.

_Oh gods, Torio,_ thought Sand. _All these years and I still cannot control my thoughts around you._ _Beautiful, wild Torio._

"It would be _just_ like the girl who was thrown in a Luskan prison for stealing a loaf of bread, only to have the guards have their way with her night after night until she was forced to murder them in cold blood just to stop the pain. And you are right, Sand, it would be _just_ like the woman from Luskan who thought she _finally_ found someone who cared about her, who promised her a better life...until she failed him and he tortured her for weeks and left her for dead."

Tears streamed down Torio's face as she stood there, half naked before him.

"But it is _not_ like the woman who was shown mercy and compassion by the Knight Captain of Crossroad Keep. _Not_ like the woman who was told that the Captain had died saving the entire world. _Not _like the woman who was forced to leave the only real home she ever had on pain of death! No, Sand, _that_ woman is no longer capable of trying to hurt and harm. All she wants is to help and heal and find forgiveness."

_Touch me, Althraion,_ her heart begged. _Hold me, forgive me for being a fool._

Sand stood motionless, speechless. The light from the glowstones on the wall illuminated Torio's tortured face as she sobbed quietly, unashamedly, staring straight at him.

Although the light was dim he knew her eyes were blue flecked grey, the lashes long and black. Slowly, he raised his hands and pulled the remains of her tattered shirt back over her nakedness. He saw that there was no guile, no deceit and no deception in her words or her eyes.

_By the gods, Torio_, he thought. _Do you still dance? Do you use that lovely voice to sing to your children now? _All those years of not knowing the truth behind the unbelievably evil actions of this woman, perpetrated only out of a desire to be loved, and to belong. Wasn't that the goal of every living thing? If his own life had been vastly different, could he truly say that he would not have done exactly as she had done in a desperate bid to heal a terrible pain inside?

"Torio," he spoke softly, hoping that their heated discussion had not awakened Kyrie. "We are travelling back to the Sword Coast. Crossroad Keep belongs to Kyrie by the King's decree. She wants to go back, even though she remembers nothing of the events. She still cannot identify our friends, and in truth, our enemies. Kyrie only knows what I have told her, and her own fragmented memories that come in fits and starts. I cannot talk to her about Casavir. I am hoping that seeing his grave might make her see...so she can move on and heal. She refuses the merest notion that he is gone."

"Because he isn't, Sand. He's not dead." Torio's breathing had returned to normal now that she saw he would no longer attack her with his vicious words.

"Isn't it just a rumor, Torio, a story?"

"No, it's not just a rumor. I believe it. I want to know what you are going to do about it."

Sand crossed his arms in front of him, his eyes narrowed at her. "Do about it? I'm going to take her home to Crossroad Keep so she can begin to heal and move on, as I already said."

"Move on...you mean with you? Come on, Sand, don't give me that expression of astonishment. It's all over your face. Every time you look at her I can see the love in your eyes. You want her to simply accept the death of the man she loves more then life itself, so you can be the hero and pick up the pieces."

Sand looked sad. _As it was with you. All those years ago all I wanted was to be your hero but you didn't see me. I looked at you the same way once too Torio, a lifetime ago. But our ambitions left no room for love. _

"I care about her, deeply."

"Then do the right thing, and help her get Casavir out!"

"Help her get Casavir out....do you not see, Torio, that our Kyrie is not exactly the same woman she once was? Are you that oblivious? She does not remember who she is, where she has been, nor even where she is going! I dread thinking what it will do to her when we reach the Keep and everyone but her knows who she was. I'm hoping her memory returns soon. For now, all she knows is her name, his name, and that I am her friend who is taking her home."

Torio crossed her arms and gave him a hard, unforgiving look.

"You are hoping that she will forget him, somewhere on this journey. You are hoping she will decide that accepting his death is the best course of action and take _you_ into her heart, and her bed… instead. That's what this is really about isn't it, Sand? Well there is one real problem with your plan."

"Oh do enlighten me, Torio."

"She knows. She is bonded to Casavir in a way you have never known, and _will_ never know. You can show her 100 dead bodies and tell her it's him, but she _knows_. And until that knowing stops she will never stop looking for him. If it takes her the rest of her life, that's the way it's going to be. If you have the slightest capability to love anyone at all, then help her."

Sand sighed and looked away for a long time. _Oh, you stupid girl_, he thought. _There is so much you just don't know_ _about me_. When his eyes returned to Torio's there was a deep sadness in them that almost made her sorry for her words.

"What have you heard, exactly...and why am I thinking that this is the most _ridiculous_ path I'm about to take, on the advice of a former enemy who wanted nothing more then to see Kyrie, and truly all of us, _dead_."

Torio suddenly smiled, and Sand felt that old longing for her stir up inside him again. Her eyes were so bright.

"You said _former_ enemy. That makes me feel...good." She reached out her arms and hugged him, quickly, before he could react.

He flushed and cleared his throat, tensing up.

"Well...then...if you are finished molesting me, care to tell just what you have heard, about Casavir?"

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Several hours later, Torio and Sand were sitting outside on the small porch.

"Alright, let me see if I have all of this right," he said. "You left Crossroad Keep after the battle. Nevalle told you that you had to leave immediately, or face death at his hands."

"Yes. He told me he was giving me this one chance to get as far away from the Keep as humanly possible and to never return to the Sword Coast or he would have me executed. He said he was granting me this amnesty in respect for Kyrie, who had died stopping the King of Shadows."

Sand nodded. "So you left. Tell me again what happened. And _exactly_ as it happened, please."

"I was about a month gone. A gypsy caravan was passing by and asked me if I wanted to travel with them. I agreed, it was rough roads to handle alone. We stopped outside of a small town, where a travelling cleric was holding a sermon. He talked to me, asked me where I was from. He said that my accent placed me in Luskan. I couldn't lie about it so I said yes, I had been raised there."

"And this cleric, he told you about Casavir?" asked Sand.

Torio knit her brow in thought. "He said that it was unfortunate for me being from Luskan, but that it was good that I had gotten out of there. He said any city that would arrest and try a hero of Neverwinter, and really the world, was completely evil in his books and he wanted to be as far from it as possible."

"You questioned him further, yes?"

"Yes! I thought that he was talking about Kyrie! I remember it so well. I was shaking with anger, and fear for her."

"What did this cleric say then?"

"He said that he had been summoned to the fortress, to help look for the group that had gone with the Knight Captain of Crossroad Keep to battle the King of Shadows. He didn't say much about what or who they found except for a paladin, terribly wounded and near death. He was tasked with trying to heal him. The cleric said that the paladin kept saying something that sounded like _Kira_, and he would not say anything else except to indicate how much pain he was in. When he said that, I realized that he wasn't talking about Kyrie at all, but Casavir."

"Go on." said Sand, watching her carefully, measuring her words, making sure the story was identical to what she had already told him before. Kyrie was fragile. If such rumors proved untrue, it most likely would destroy her, and he would go to the nine hells himself before allowing that.

"I asked him about the paladin further, he told me that he managed to heal him enough to move him to the church. There, it took four high level clerics several days to bring him back from the brink of death, at which time he identified himself as Casavir, follower of Tyr. That's when...well that's when the Luskans came into it."

"How was that?"

"Like I told you before, Sand, they came to the church and said that the man they had brought from the fortress was wanted in Luskan for a crime of murder. The cleric told them that this man had helped save them all from certain death at the hands of the King of Shadows. The Luskans refused to listen, they told the Clerics they had 4 days to bring the paladin back to normal so he could be tried in a Luskan court. This cleric refused, but his superiors told him they could not meddle in political or criminal affairs and that they had to let the paladin go with the Luskan jailers once the healing was complete. Casavir asked what had happened to the Knight Captain, and the cleric, when he told me this story, called her _'Kira'_. He told Casavir that he was the only survivor of the battle, and that _'Kira'_ was dead. He said that Casavir completely lost interest in trying to fight against the Luskans when they came for him. He said he didn't care what they did with him. The cleric at that point left the church stating that they no longer cared to do what was right and just. He had been gone from the church the same time as I had been gone from the coast."

Torio shifted, her hand brushing Sand's. She reached up tentatively and touched his shoulder.

"Alth...Sand, there is a bit more. You wondered how I was so sure it isn't just a rumor."

He didn't flinch or move away from her touch, but his heart skipped a beat when she very nearly called him by his elven name. She moved the hand from his shoulder to brush back her hair.

"I saw him. I saw Casavir when the Luskans took him. Sand, he looked right at me. He knows I'm Luskan. I think he might believe I had something to do with it all. I need to help make this right, to...to attone for what I have done not just to Kyrie, but to everyone I have wronged. I don't...I don't want to go to the nine hells. Please...Sand, do you believe me?" Her lower lip trembled slightly as she struggled with her emotions.

Sand nodded very slowly, watching her eyes. No inconsistencies, no trace of deception on Torio's part. He then recounted his own run-in with the Luskan. Her gaze never left his for a moment, her face inches from his in the near dark.

He felt his insides tighten up, whether from her nearness or the reality of the situation he didnt know, but it was the threat to Casavir's life that weighed heavy on him.

Something needed to be done. But at this point, was it even possible that Casavir was still alive?

"Torio, I need you to be perfectly honest with me now, again. If what you have told me is true, if Casavir _has_ been tried and found guilty of whatever outrageous lies Luskan accused him of, what are the chances that he is still alive?"

"If they knew that he was the betrothed of the Knight Captain of Crossroad Keep, the woman responsible for most if not all of their current troubles, I can promise you that he is now in a living hell from which death would be most welcome, and most assuredly unattainable."


	6. Chapter 6

_This is an AU. I'm not a stickler for accuracy in the details of the Neverwinter universe such as gods etc. but I do try my best. This story does have explicit sexual content, 18+. If you are offended by sexual themes don't start reading! There is artwork for this story at my deviantart account under aeltari._

Kyrie had not asked to, so Sand had not pressed her to move on. He was not averse to giving her as much time to recover her memory as was needed before their continuing voyage to the Sword Coast and Crossroad Keep. Sand himself was working through informants trying to glean some more information about Casavir.

It was a bittersweet situation. As long as Kyrie had the visions, she knew her beloved was alive. Despite the severity of the scenes, Kyrie had a deeper sense that told her that he was alright, to use the term loosely. It was uncanny how she would awaken screaming from a vision, then a strange change would overtake her and she would be calm and secure once more. Sand had a feeling that the gods had a part to play. That could be both positive and a negative in nature.

It was slow going through the informants; people were still suspicious so soon after the war, and very few wanted to talk about events inside Luskan's borders. Despite Kyrie's assurances, Sand was growing very concerned for the paladin's safety and survivability. Luskans were known for their cruelty, but eventually they would tire of their prisoner and put him to death.

Kyrie was, or rather seemed, happy enough, and began spending more time with Torio and the children and less time alone in her room, although she still tired easily lately and often had no interest in mealtimes.

The nightmares and visions came and went, although they did not increase in frequency. Sand found himself torn; he hated seeing her suffer but the visions gave him valuable information.

The two ladies came home from the other side of the village one afternoon, arms linked, heads close, laughing as best friends would. Sand cornered Torio in the yard as she picked some beans for dinner.

"The two of you have gotten quite cozy together haven't you, Torio?" he asked. He expected a brazen, snippy response from her, but she continued with her work.

"I really like her, Sand. I love her company, I love talking to her. She is...well...what I imagined a sister would be like. Family, all that good stuff."

"And in your intimation, have you thought about what will happen when Kyrie regains her memory and recalls exactly what you did to her in Neverwinter? How about when she finds out what happened to Casavir, that whole 'captured by the Luskans' thing, that small detail about _you_ being Luskan. How does that factor in to your little fantasy about sisterhood and all that 'good stuff' hmm Torio?"

Sand had hit a nerve, and Torio stood up. She shoved him out of the way, hard.

"Why must you persist in trying to destroy any goodness I have here? Is there no room for redemption and forgiveness in your book? How about Kyrie? She is happy here. She hasn't cried for days. She can actually mention Casavir's name now without it tearing her heart out. You know, Sand, why don't you just go the hells away and leave us all alone?!"

Sand whispered a few words and levitated Torio a few inches off the ground.

"Leave you all _alone_? If I remember right, it was _you_ who insisted that I help Kyrie find Casavir. It was _you_ who spent the entire night with me convincing me that he is, or was, alive and that I should just run right out there to Luskan and get him out of prison or where ever he is!"

He unwove the levitation field and dropped her down. Torio landed hard, and badly. With a yelp she fell and looked up at him in shock and pain.

Kyrie, who had come out to help with the beans, saw the altercation and ran to her friend's side. Bending over Torio she asked what was hurt. Trying not to show it, Torio rubbed her ankle, refusing to look at Sand.

Kyrie lay one hand over the other on top of the injured spot, and closed her eyes. A blue glow emanated from her hands as she chanted a few short words.

Torio flexed her ankle. The pain had completely gone.

"Thank you, Kyrie!" exclaimed Torio, slowly getting off the ground. Kyrie looked confused and bewildered, looking at her hands, then at her friend.

"I don't...I don't know how I did that...I saw you were hurt and just, just..." she gestured with her hands, speaking to Torio and also completely ignoring Sand.

"I'm a... I can heal, Torio...I'm a healer!" she looked pleased, but Torio's face paled slightly and she looked away.

"Yes, you are. You are a lot of things, Kyrie, a lot of things that you have yet to remember."

She walked back towards the house, forgetting about the beans she had gathered and dropped. Torio just wanted to get as far away from the wizard as she could. He spoke the truth, but that didn't mean she had to be happy about it.

After leaving the Keep, Torio was sure she would never again find a place to call home. Kyrie had shown her compassion and mercy when everyone else had clamored for her head. It was Kyrie who had given her a safe, comfortable room to live in, all the food she could eat. It was Kyrie who would occasionally stop and speak with her, always asking how things were going, and once even if she were happy at the Keep. Torio hoped that day before she had fled down the hallway back to her room in tears that she had given the emphatic _'yes'_ that her heart had screamed out.

Torio had heard Kyrie numerous times chide her friends for their hard hearts. Even the paladin Casavir, as good a man as he was, treated Torio with aloof wariness. The first time Torio had ever entered a church, the Church of Tyr at the Keep, her first awkward prayer was for Tyr to protect the Lady Knight Captain Kyrie. She asked Tyr for a chance someday to repay the only true mercy she had ever been shown. And as fate would have it, here was Kyrie, blissfully ignorant of everything, open and willing and ready to forgive yet again.

But the wizard's words held a frightening truth. If Kyrie's memory returned, would she be as forgiving towards Torio then? Her heart froze at the thought.

_Damn you, Sand_, she thought unhappily, aggressively peeling the skins from the potatoes. _Why you of all people? _

Like her, he was Luskan, once a resident of the dreaded Hosttower. When she had been scraping, begging and killing her way through life, when she would dance and sing in the seediest taverns of the city, that wizard was the one who would toss coins at her.

Young, talented Althraion of House Nhaereseer. He was singlehandedly responsible for many nights of her having a safe place to sleep…as safe as Luskan could be. It was the handsome moon elf who had given her not only coins, but pretty trinkets and bits of colorful clothing, even the odd basket of spirits to warm the dreadful winter nights.

Torio cursed herself at this point. She had not wanted to be a consort of a Hosttower mage. It was not good enough for young Torio, she wanted more, she wanted to rise above all of Luskan and make them pay for the years of cruelty they had vested on her.

Althraion wasn't dominant enough, ambitious enough. Then the wizard called Garius appeared, self proclaimed Master of the 5th Tower, with his promises of grandeur. He had all the right words for an angry young woman, the right evidence to prove his power…and Torio fell into his grasp. She remembered the day when Garius had come to take her away. Althraion had simply looked at her in deep sadness and turned away.

Life as Garius' pawn was a version of the nine hells. One did not refuse nor fail him and escape severe punishment. She saw that her use to him lasted only as long as the current order. He had no love for her, no loyalty. She had once sought out the elf Althraion, but discovered he had left the Hosttower with a bounty on his head.

It was the hand of fate that set her against Althraion during the trial of the Ember massacre. His very presence had unbalanced her, knocked her off kilter. She couldn't look in his eyes for fear of what she would see there: anger, disappointment, and worse, sadness. He hadn't even changed, his eyes were still the color of the sky, his beautiful face still carried the expression of quirky amusement.

And everything about him said he hated her.

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Kyrie glared angrily at Sand. "I saw what you did! Why would you do that? Torio has been nothing but kind and hospitable towards both of us since we arrived here! Maybe where you come from kindness isn't a virtue, but to me it is. So is forgiveness. Torio has apologized to me for the wrongs she committed towards me, and I accepted that apology! She has been compassionate, attentive and just plain good to me, and I won't have you threatening or hurting her for any reason!"

Sand said nothing, but his eyes betrayed the sadness he felt. He was afraid to admit even to himself that he had felt…envy…at the growing bond between the women. Both of them he had loved and lost because of his own inability to stand up for his feelings. He turned his gaze downwards, his entire posture signalling defeat.

Eventually he raised his blue eyes to Kyrie's sunset ones, and stood that way for what felt like hours, just looking at her. He felt haunted by Torio's shocked and pained expression when he dropped the levitation field. He had meant only to jolt her a little into considering what he had said. He had most certainly not meant to cause her any pain.

Kyrie's anger and confusion was palpable. There was so much she didn't know, more she didn't remember, and a world of possibilities that once existed to Sand were slowly dwindling down to nothing. With the real chance of Casavir being alive, Sand's hopes were slowly ebbing away.

With a slight displacement of air, Sand vanished.

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Torio wound a flower into Kyrie's plait, then took its mate and did the same to her daughter's hair. The little girl preened in front of the mirror, then wandered off to play with a makeshift cloth doll. She snuggled the toy as a mother snuggles a living child, then pretended to plait the doll's hair too, chattering and twittering as little children do. Torio watched her, a smile on her lips.

"Kyrie, do you think Sand can ever forgive me, for the things I did?"

"He has a very good heart, Torio. But there is a lot between you that neither of you has told me."

"What makes you say that?" Torio looked uncomfortable.

"I just know. I can't tell you how, but I just know. Magda told me it is probably a gift of my Aasimar heritage."

"Is that where you get those eyes from?"

Kyrie nodded.

Torio moved to a chest sitting on the floor. Curling her legs under her she leaned back on a dusty chaise, opened it and dug through, pulling out bits of clothing, parchment, and other memorabilia.

"'I'm not proud of some of the things I did in my life. In fact I'm really ashamed of most of them."

"I think everyone has things like that. I mean how can you learn if you don't mess things up sometimes? Doesn't seem possible. I bet I have things like that, if I could remember anything."

Torio leafed through a journal, wistfully running her fingers over some of the pages. Kyrie flattened out on the chaise, her chin resting on Torio's shoulder. The auburn haired woman showed off some of her sketches and drawings, a few scribbles of poetry, the odd pressed flower or clover, and even the label from a bottle of spirits of some sort.

"Kyrie, is it weird?"

"Is what weird?"

"Not remembering things, but _knowing_ that you don't remember them. If you didn't remember anything at all, and didn't realize it, that would be sort of like the gods giving you a second chance to do your life over."

"But if you don't know you are missing anything, you wouldn't think to believe that, right? I mean, how do we know that our whole life isn't some case of amnesia gifted to us by the gods?"

Torio's lovely grey eyes looked directly into Kyrie's and the expression in them was filled with sadness.

"I don't consider my life to be a gift in any way. If this is a second chance I shudder to think of the mess the first one was. I would rather think of some alternate dimension where a copy of me didn't ruin everything, where I am loved and…well anyway, at least things are much better now then they once were. I have the children and Grandfather who need me."

"They would be lost without you, you know. I really don't think you are the demon you insinuate you are…or were."

"That's the amnesia talking." Said Torio wryly and proceeded to dig through the chest some more.

Kyrie sat up and stretched, wandering over to the window. She drew aside the curtain and looked outside.

"Torio…I…you know I love my Cassi with all my heart, right?"

Torio looked up and nodded. "Kyrie, everyone could see that. In fact we _all_ saw it before you did. The way he looked at you when _you_ weren't paying attention. The way you watched him when _he_ wasn't. The soldiers used to take bets to see who would cave in first!"

They giggled like schoolgirls for a moment over the situation, then Kyrie grew serious.

"There's a part of me that wonders if it wasn't someone else I should have been with."

"Oh? There was someone else? I never noticed…at least not when I was there."

"I didn't notice either. He did all these things for me, made little comments, gestures of affection…and I didn't see the depth of his feelings until now, until the memories…the memories make me experience the feelings in a way I never could at the time."

Torio caught her lower lip in her teeth. "Althraion?" she asked in barely a whisper.

Kyrie turned suddenly, nodding. "I thought you said you never noticed anyone else…was this one obvious to you then?"

"No. But a lifetime ago, I think he may have loved me too. I was so caught up in wanting vengeance for all the wrongs I suffered that I wouldn't see it, didn't want it until it was too late. It was a bad place and time. Even though you refuse to consider it, I'm not…I'm _not_ a very good person, Kyrie."

Kyrie's mouth dropped open. "You are the dancer! Sand told me about his early years in the Hosttower, how he fell in love with a dancer!"

"He _told_ you he fell in love with her?" Torio's grey eyes were large and luminous as she realized with a deep, wrenching sadness what she had given up.

"Yes. Then when he and I met, I did the same thing to him. Didn't see the obvious. Then I fell in love with my Cassi, and truly my eyes stopped seeing anyone but him…but I wonder sometimes what would have happened if I _had_ seen the depth of Sand's feelings. He has so much to give. Do you care for him still, Torio?"

Torio sighed miserably.

"I never stopped, but…too many things, terrible things have gone on between us and…and he just can't forgive me. I can't blame him. I don't deserve his love after the things I have done." The resignation in Torio's voice hung in the air.

Kyrie turned back to the window. "Torio, you have to tell him. What if it really _is_ too late one day, do you want that in your heart? Do you want _him_ to have that in his?"

"He hates me, Kyrie. With good reason too."

"I don't believe that for a minute. Like I said, I just can't see you being the monster you say you are."

Torio chewed her lip and went back to the items in the chest. The women remained that way for some time, picking through the chest, laughing over the little girl's antics, draping odd pieces of clothing over themselves. Torio reached into the bottom of the chest and held up the strangest looking item. It appeared to be a collar of sorts, made of brown leather with a white X pattern adorning the sides. At the front sat a large, smooth, oval turquoise stone.

Grinning, Torio placed it around her neck.

"I can't believe I used to wear some of this garbage, "she said.

Torio looked over at Kyrie who was staring at her, a vacant look in her large sunset eyes. Her stomach clenched in fear when Torio realized that the collar had sparked something in Kyrie's memory. Of course! The trial of Ember! She had worn the cursed thing!

_How could I have been so stupid? _Her mind screamed_. Gods, won't I ever learn? _She tore the offending item off her neck and threw it on the floor with a cry. Marian looked frightened and Torio pointed to the door.

"Marian, go! Please, Kyrie isn't well!" The little girl's eyes were large and she crept for the door holding her doll close, slipping out without a sound.

Torio heard her run down the hall calling for her brother.

Torio approached Kyrie slowly, reaching out a hand to her arm. "Ky? Kyrie? Hey…Kyrie, please!"

_"Bring in the accused…" Judge Oleff's voice rang out across the judgement hall. Kyrie, wearing full ceremonial armor, walked through the hall to stand before Lord Nasher Alagondar._

_"We are gathered here today to determine the truth of the crime committed in the small village of Ember, its people slaughtered to the last man, woman and child."_

_Kyrie was shaking. Who would do this, accuse her of murdering, in cold blood, an entire village of innocent souls? There had been little children in that village! Mothers with tiny infants in their arms! It was unbelievable, horrifying. _

_"Is the accuser here?" Judge Oleff's eyes searched the hall._

_"I speak for those the accused slaughtered at Ember, and I am here to see that justice is carried out this day"_

_Kyrie stared at the Ambassador to Luskan, Torio Claven. "As are we all, Ambassador." _

_"And is the accused here, and her defender?" asked Judge Oleff_

_Beside her, Sand gave her hand a comforting squeeze. "We are present and eager to bring the truth of this matter into Tyr's sight, Reverend Judge."_

Kyrie couldn't catch her breath, the memory, the emotion was tearing her apart. She was feeling such hatred, such fear all directed at her. Underlying that was sadness, confusion, sorrow.

She was vaguely aware of Torio touching her arm…Torio! She was there! It was _her_, she had accused Kyrie of the most heinous of crimes, something that she would never, _could_ never have done!

Kyrie sank to her knees, trembling uncontrollably, her eyes still seeing the nightmare from so long ago.

_"…she has had years of experience in treachery and twisting words…" Sand's gentle voice belied the words he spoke. "If you fail, you are bound for the gallows for certain."_

_Hollowly, Kyrie turned to him. "I'm glad you are here, Sand, I couldn't do this without you…"_

_Sand smiled. "No thanks are necessary, this is a labor of love…" He turned hooded eyes towards Torio._

Kyrie reeled under the onslaught of emotion. She saw all the faces of the people who had come to see her be condemned, for something she hadn't done. She turned her vacant eyes and saw her friends…who were they?

_Friends for sure? Yes, they were anxious, worried, frightened for her. No names came to her mind but her heart screamed out to them. _

_Then she saw him._

_Casavir. Beautiful Casavir._

_He pressed his fingers to his lips and kissed them, briefly indicating her. Those eyes. Those steely blue, intensely passionate eyes. _

_Casavir, Cassi, save me…_

"…_the accuser, Ambassador Torio Claven of Luskan may now call witnesses to the stand."_

_Kyrie stared uncomprehending at Torio. Intense emotions assaulted her soul, emotions that were coming not from herself but from the auburn haired woman. Longing: intense, burning longing. _

_Pain, heart wrenching pain, so much sorrow and sadness and desire...Torio wanted something, wanted something so badly she would sell her soul for it. _

_What is it, what is it…Kyrie was slowly sinking into darkness._

_Many voices, a cacophony of sound, ripping at her mind._

"…_we are all going to hang…"_

"_..all those people, and they had no weapons…"_

"…_but the accused slaughtered them all, didn't she?"_

"…_cut off his head as he begged for his life on his knees…"_

"_I call the accused as a witness…"_

Kyrie stared blindly at Torio, who had backed up against the wall, her face ashen. She was locked into her memory, unable to get out.

_"Why did you kill the people of Ember?" Torio's voice rang out in the judgement hall, the crowd gasping collectively. _

_Kyrie felt her throat closing. She wanted to scream. _

_Torio's grey eyes were narrowed and she looked smugly at Kyrie, but behind those eyes was that heart wrenching desire again._

_"How dare you?!" Torio shouted, rage contorting her face. "Do you think being here in Neverwinter makes you safe from me? It doesn't!"_

_Rage and fear, rage and fear, wave after wave._

_Blissfully, blackness encroached on her vision, enveloping, covering. She sank into darkness._

Kyrie awoke to the sound of sobbing. She opened her eyes slowly. Something, or rather someone, was hanging onto her hand. It wasn't dark, but the light wasn't bright either and Kyrie struggled to move.

She was lying on something soft, the old dusty chaise. The figure holding her hand was sitting on the floor, crying as though her heart would break.

It was Torio.

When she felt Kyrie move, she lifted her tear streaked face, Kyrie's hand held tightly in hers.

"I'm sorry!" she cried. "I'm so sorry Kyrie! It was cruel and stupid and for all the wrong reasons! I want to take it back, but I can't!"

Kyrie stared at her as though seeing her for the first time.

"D…did you, did you kill them?" she whispered haltingly, afraid of the answer.

She saw Torio shake her head quickly several times, sobs still escaping.

"No! I had nothing to do with that! It was Lorne, and Garius. Oh gods Kyrie you have to believe _that_ if nothing else!"

Kyrie sifted through the memories, but the overwhelming emotions were no longer there. They had ebbed to a dull roar inside her, and she understood, _knew, _what made Torio tick. The burning desire inside her was love. She wanted to know love. She would do anything to feel it.

To Torio, the end always justified the means. The end always had to be love.

Kyrie pulled her hand free and sat up. A painful twinge in her abdomen made her pause a moment, but she slid onto the floor beside Torio.

"I understand, Torio. Everyone deserves a chance at redemption, a second chance. And it's alright. Come back with me and Sand to the Keep. He told me that I always wanted my friends to live with me, that I wouldn't have it any other way. So come home with us, you and your children and your grandfather."

Torio sobbed with relief. "Do you forgive me, Kyrie?"

"Yes, yes I believe I do. It was terrible what you did, but I understand. We are friends, Torio. That was then, this is now, this is...a different place and time...like you said when we first came here. Come home with us."

Through her tears, Torio shook her head sadly.

"I can't, Kyrie. Sand hates me, he would never tolerate my coming with you. He can't forgive what I have done. He just can't, and I really don't think I can blame him for that. I have been a horrible person my whole life, maybe I am past redemption. It is too late for me."

"Don't say that! It's never too late. That's absurd, Torio! It's a miracle you survived the war, the long journey from the Keep…and those years in Luskan…"

She took her friend's hand. "As for Sand, give it time. Give _him _a second chance to get to know you again. He's pretty smart you know, he will see who you really are if you allow him that."

The look in the golden eyes told Torio volumes. Kyrie was able to forgive her because she _had_ seen, had known things that were never meant to be shared. That must be what it meant to have a friend, someone who would forgive you, care for you no matter what you had done. Maybe Kyrie was right. Perhaps in time Sand also would see that she had changed, that she wanted to be different.

Suddenly proving that to him became the most important thing in her world.

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_Darkness. _

_Oppressive darkness, stifling darkness. _

_Kyrie stood in that room of horror again, with a few tiny embers burning in a brazier, giving off a very light glow. _

_Her eyes widened to let in the most light. She was unable to move forward, rooted as if by magic to that one spot. _

_She turned her head this way and that. Her eyes made out a shape on the floor. There were no sounds in the room, just the darkness and the cold. _

_She soon found herself able to move and she crawled over to the shape. She did not feel the roughness of the stones beneath her legs and hands, a fact she found odd. It was as though she were floating above the ground. _

_The shape moved, curling itself tighter against the cold._

_"Hello?" Kyrie called out softly. She touched the shape but her hand passed right through it._

_"Ky….ree" a hollow, raspy whisper reached her ears. _

_The shape shifted again, and repeated her name, over and over like a mantra, a chant. _

_Her breath caught in her throat. _

_Suddenly the brazier sprang into life, a fire sprouting from its black center. _

_The shape was illuminated against the black floor, a man, a badly beaten and battered man. _

_Kyrie felt her insides drop, her heart pound. No, no no…she silently prayed, but to whom she did not know. She tried to touch the figure again, but she was as a spectre, able to see but not touch. _

_The man stretched out his arm, and Kyrie saw the long jagged slashes. Someone had taken a dagger to him. His back was crisscrossed with whip marks, blood dried in the horrible grooves. _

_Kyrie felt a sob rise up in her throat. She crawled nearer, and he turned his head. His eyes were closed but she would recognize that face anywhere, as broken as it was. _

_She ran her hands desperately through empty air, sobbing piteously. Curling up by his head she cried out his name over and over. _

_"Casavir, Cassi, I'm coming for you, wait for me, wait for me, wait for me…"_

_She awoke to the echo of an anguished, screaming version of her name._


	7. Chapter 7

_This is an AU. I'm not a stickler for accuracy in the details of the Neverwinter universe such as gods etc. but I do try my best. This CHAPTER HAS EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT, 18+. If you are offended by sexual themes don't start reading! There is artwork for this story at my deviantart account under aeltari._

"Well where in blazes could she have gone?"

Sand stormed from one end of the yard to the other. He had been up at dawn as he always was, checked on Kyrie as he always did, but this time she had not been in her bed nor in any other part of the house or yard. The village for the most part was still asleep and those who weren't hadnt seen nor heard from her since the day before. The children hadn't seen her, nor had Kyrie indicated or said anything to the old man about leaving.

Had someone done something to her? Was she in some sort of trouble? Would she end up on the other side of the world again?

Sand paced furiously.

"She knows we were going to the Sword Coast. She would not want to go without us, there was no reason to leave us behind, correct? The two of you were together all day yesterday. Did _you_ do something to her, Torio?" Sand looked at her through narrowed eyes, a bite in his voice.

Torio glared at him intent on hiding her fear and pain with tightened lips. She turned on her heel.

She returned later that afternoon with two horses in tow. Wordlessly she packed up a selection of food and a few changes of clothing. She donned a pair of leather breeches, a simple blouse and a cloak. Around her waist she buckled a scabbard with a nasty looking short sword, and on her arm and leg she strapped two daggers.

Torio sat on the porch with the children, hugging them and the old man close, speaking softly to them. Occasionally she drew a hand across her eyes, and her fingers brushed the little ones' cheeks. Both the boy and the girl hung onto her until a dwarven female arrived in a pony cart and took them inside, with Torio giving a wistful glance at their retreating backs.

She loaded up the first horse with a few packs and satchels. Pulling the second one around, she loaded it up as well and gracefully leaped up onto its back.

Sand was watching her from a slight distance, an expression of disbelief on his face.

She wheeled the horse around to face him.

"I'm going after Kyrie!" Torio shouted at him, her voice hard. "I'm headed in the direction of the Sword Coast. If anyone wishes to stop me they will have to put an arrow in my body and remove my head."

Worried by her shouting, the horse half-reared and pranced. Torio masterfully controlled it and continued her tirade.

"After I find her, I'm going to Luskan for Casavir, and I _will_ burn down that gods forsaken town or die trying! You, _Sand,_ can go _rot_ in the nine hells for all I care!"

She wheeled the animal around again and dug her heels into the horse's side. It sprang forward with a shriek and galloped off in a trail of dust.

In her zeal, she forgot to take the other one.

"Oh hells, hells, _hells_!" muttered Sand.

He caught the reins of the other horse and dragged the beast to the fence, using it to climb aboard. He had never been much of a rider, the mere idea of it gave him pause. Teleportation might be the best way to travel, but not when you are following a crazed female hell bent on destruction.

He cursed as the beast sidestepped away from the fence and he crashed to the ground, his robe tearing on an exposed nail. He would have a few, very choice words for Torio when he found her, most likely before he turned her to stone or something equally befitting.

Hanging onto the pommel of the saddle for dear life, the reins wrapped around his hands, Sand dug his heels into the horse's side and made to follow Torio.

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Kyrie walked unsteadily through the icy ankle deep water into the cave. Her vision was blurred, but for one small glowing green orb that floated ahead of her.

She had awoken in a cold sweat, a pain in her abdomen, and her chest wound aching. The strange orb had beckoned her, speaking to a part of her she couldn't consciously reach. It was understood that she was to follow where it lead. She had risen and dressed in a daze her mind foggy.

She had retched into the sink, and again in the bushes on the edge of town, and once more for good measure near the first river crossing.

The green orb had hovered in her line of vision, and her eyes gradually dimmed to everything but it's soft green glow. She felt as though she may be dying, the sickness, the pain, the hazy vision, the foggy mind…the broken heart.

She wanted to pray, but she didn't know who to pray to, and barring that no prayers came to her lips. Sand had mentioned Tyr, but she didnt remember that god. Maybe that god was displeased with her, and she was being punished.

She desperately wanted comfort, but the only person whose arms could provide that lay dying, tortured and beaten somewhere she couldn't discern. She was overwhelmed and assaulted by fragments of memory after memory, flashes of people, places and things that she had loved, seen and experienced, all of the emotions rushing into her mind at once.

Kyrie wanted to scream, cry, collapse. She began to feel that the dark quiet of oblivion would be a welcome change from the chaos, the flashes, the noise and the pain of her returning memories.

She felt weak, vulnerable, insecure and terrified.

The orb moved steadily forward, floating over the rough terrain which Kyrie tripped and stumbled over. Kyrie smelled and felt the cave although she could not see it.

The cave was dark, dank and cold. It smelled of salt water and algae.

She slipped and fell, painfully hitting her ribs against a sharp stone, abrading her hands, bruising her knees and legs despite the breeches she wore beneath the woolen skirt. She sobbed miserably, struggling to get up and regain her footing.

If she looked away from the orb, the darkness terrified her, so she forced her eyes to remain on it and follow it along.

Without warning, she suddenly found herself plunged over her head into the icy water. Flailing and gasping for breath, Kyrie tried to stand, but found the water too deep. She looked frantically for the orb but didn't see it, her heavy clothing beginning to drag her down. She didn't know if she could swim, but in desperation she lashed out at the water and kicked as hard as she could and crept forward until one of her hands painfully struck rock. Her knees soon hit an edge as well and she groped in the complete darkness for a way up. Slowly she found hand and footholds and pulled herself up on a ledge, collapsing in exhaustion.

She lay in a puddle of water, in too much pain to move. Every muscle was screaming in protest, the wound in her chest throbbed, and a lancing pain stabbed her abdomen. She felt dizzy, disoriented and nauseous.

Kyrie curled up on the hard uneven stone shivering, and cried pitifully for Casavir.

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Sand bumped and jolted along the road for hours until twilight came. He spied the smoke from a campfire and steered his horse towards it. He was exhausted both emotionally and physically, and he cursed a blue streak in his mind at Torio.

He doubted very much Kyrie had made it very far on foot, but if she were going to the Keep there was only one direction to go and eventually they would have to cross paths. If not, they would meet up at the Keep at one point or another. At least, he hoped so. Kyrie was so fragile now, so unlike the Knight Captain they had been willing to follow even unto death.

Sand pulled his horse up and slid off, his legs unsteady. He didn't care if the camp belonged to saints or sinners. They would have to deal with him come what may. He was too ornery and tired to take any guff from anyone and only wanted to be as far away from that horse as possible.

"I thought I told you to go to the nine hells, Sand." Torio's voice cut into him like a dagger.

"Well, seeing as I just found _you_, that's exactly where I must be." he retorted.

"At least you were smart enough to bring the food. Took you long enough, I'm hungry." She said it matter-of-factly, indicating his horse.

"By the nine hells you PLANNED this?" he shouted at her.

She gave him her sweetest smile and sauntered towards the horse.

Sand let loose a string of expletives, describing her entire family in terms that would make a sailor blush, then held out the long jagged slash in his robe, which had gotten worse on the ride.

"And look at this! My favorite robe, ruined completely by your motley fence! What sort of hair-brained idea were you screaming about back there, going to Luskan to get Casavir out, you idiotic harpy!"

Torio stopped, turned, and walked slowly over to him, no sign of anger in her eyes or on her face. She crossed her arms and stared at him analytically for a moment, then lifted up a torn section of robe in each hand.

In one swift movement she tore the robe nearly in half, and watched it fall to the ground.

Sand's eyes nearly exploded from his head.

"What in the HELLS!" he screamed at her.

He was standing in a thin cream colored shirt and black breeches with his fists clenched at his sides and Torio eyed him appraisingly without a word. _He's very nicely put together,_ she mused.

Sand was beside himself with rage. Raising his hands, he began an incantation.

"I don't think so!" said Torio. "Shut the hells up, Sand, just shut the hells up!"

She grabbed his hands and pressed her lips to his, hard. Shocked, he tried to step back on his still unsteady legs, lost his footing and crashed to the ground, taking Torio with him.

She landed squarely on top of him with a grunt, releasing his hands. He threw her off, cussing and shouting angrily about insane harpies and Luskan witches and pinned her down with his body, holding her arms tightly above her head.

Torio was amazed at his strength. She had always thought wizards were weak little creatures that could blow away in an autumn wind if not held down by their magic.

He looked down at her, his dark hair tousled and hanging in disarray, leaves and sticks clinging to it in spots, breathing heavily.

"By the gods, what is wrong with you!?" he griped. "_Dolle naa lost_! You empty headed harpy! Have you finally lost your good senses?!"

She looked up at him with her black lashed grey eyes wide, lips slightly parted as if to speak, but remained silent.

"Where do you get off thinking you can just go on this crazy mission_, by your self? _We don't even know where Kyrie went! We have no clue exactly where Casavir is being held! He might even be dead for all we know!"

He was hanging on to his anger, gathering it to him, piling it up, his mind dredging up all sorts of terrible things Torio had done, all to keep his rage active.

"You are insane, impetuous and infuriating!" Anything was better then having old feelings rise up and drown him. The nine hells would have been better then to lose control to the wave of emotion that was threatening him.

"Althraion, "she whispered.

The wave hit the shore with a resounding crash that Sand felt to his very soul. With that whisper, he suddenly became aware, with a shock, of her body beneath his, warm and soft. Those eyes again, looking at him, unafraid, undaunted by his anger. Try as he might he could not generate another ounce of rage. He looked at her, truly saw her, and the elf of his earlier days remembered her as she was so long ago, wild, free, beautiful.

_Why didn't I fight harder for you?_ He questioned himself harshly. _Why were the tomes, the relics, the incantations and my own insecurity such a powerful wall between us? Torio, sweet Torio…I could have saved you so much pain. I failed you so utterly when it mattered the most._

She felt the weight of him pressing down on her, saw the darkness leave his sky blue eyes. Like the parting of the clouds after a storm, they returned to their usual intensity, but a slew of emotions rushed across them. He still held her firmly pinned, but she curled her hands around his.

The contact excited her.

His anger sated, it became hard for him to hold that position and he sagged slightly, his face inches from hers, his hair hanging around her face like a gossamer curtain.

She tilted her chin up slightly, bringing her lips even closer to his.

_Will you kiss me now, Althraion?_ She wondered._ Can you get past your hatred of what I became and forgive me? I would cross the hells for a second chance with you._

Sand let go of her hands slowly. He slid to one side, hip on the ground, a leg draped over her. Propping himself on one elbow with that hand in her soft auburn hair and the other on the side of her face, Sand bent his head and kissed her. Her full lips were soft and inviting, the beautiful grey eyes closed. She put her arms around his neck, her hands entwining in his silky hair. Her tongue flicked against his lips tentatively, as if asking a question. He responded by doing the same to her, then kissed her cheeks, her eyes, and nuzzled her neck and hair.

Torio ran her fingers down his face, ran across his almond shaped eyes and traced the contours of his lips. He caught her finger and nibbled gently, his tongue against her fingertips. She drew his head down to hers again, kissing him deeply, her tongue sliding inside his mouth and his slipping inside hers. Their kiss was punctuated by a breathless longing, years of unrequited feelings and dark regret.

"If this is indeed the nine hells," Sand whispered. "then I don't ever wish to leave."

His eyes sought hers, reading in them for the first time the longing, the tenderness, the passion of this woman he had once adored, then known only as a nemesis for so long. How could he have mistaken the way she looked at him after all this time? It was all there, in her eyes; every tragedy, every sorrow, every wish, every dream.

"Well you know, Althraion, I'm still hungry, but not for anything in those packs." Her eyes sparkled and he was caught once more with how beautiful she really was.

Sand unbuttoned her blouse, and began to unlace the bodice beneath it, one loop at a time, remembering the sight of her scarred chest, wanting only to kiss away the memory of the pain.

She ran her hand up the back of his shirt, her soft warm hands giving him gooseflesh. She was taken by the smoothness of his skin, the tautness of the muscles that belied his wiry frame. She heard him sigh into her hair when she gave him a squeeze, and turned his face back to her.

He kissed her lips, her chin, her neck, placing little tender kisses on each of the terrible scars on her chest, eventually taking each of her firm nipples into his mouth and sucking gently, his tongue circling and flicking around them. She sighed with pleasure and arched her back.

Torio undid the buttons of his breeches, freeing him from its constraints. She curled her hand around his engorged member, squeezing him, making him inhale sharply. Again she was surprised that his wiry body could hold so many surprises. She stroked him slowly, lightly, drawing a strangled gasp from his lips.

Sand was fighting for control against the overwhelming pleasure of her touch, a touch that he had dreamed of and prayed for during countless sleepless nights of his young life long ago. Allowing his mind to wander where it would in a poor attempt to distract himself, Sand thought of his feelings for the strong, beautiful Kyrie, feelings that always had undercurrents of deep longing for the wild eyed former Luskan ambassador.

Torio helped him out of his shirt, his breeches, then he did likewise for her. He gazed down at her pale smooth skin, marred in so many places by vicious silver scars, remnants of a harsh life on the streets of Luskan, and gods knew what other horrors she had suffered. How he longed again to take them away from her, erase the memories of all the pain, make up for his failure so long ago.

Sand tenderly stroked her body, gathering her to him in a warm embrace, wanting to protect her from anything and everything for the rest of her days. His fingers moved up the side of her body, then back down her thighs. She parted her legs slightly, bending one knee up. He stroked up that leg, then down her inner thigh, resting his hand lightly on the soft patch of fuzz that marked her most vulnerable of areas. He could feel the hot moisture beneath his fingers, her body responding to him the way his most certainly was to hers.

Their kisses were tender, exploratory, curious. Her hands stroked his whole body, cupping his buttocks then moving to squeeze and gently pull at his hardness, iliciting a soft moan from him that excited her even more. Sand stroked her soft outer lips gently, then carefully opened her, slipping a finger deep inside her, probing delicately while his thumb caressed the firm button above it.

She was wet, warm and ready for him.

"Althraion," she whispered. "I want you to take me, here and now, so that if I die, I will know what it was to be loved by you."

He looked into her wide and trusting eyes. "Is that truly how you feel about me, Torio?" he whispered back.

"Without question." she responded. "I can't, I wont, hide it anymore."

He kissed her tenderly, his fingers moving inside her carefully, gently.

Torio moved herself beneath him, her soft inner thighs against his hips. Sand positioned himself and eased into her slowly, giving her time to adjust to him. Her body took him in, as her heart already had so long ago. It seemed as though they were made for each other, moving carefully at first, then with building passion harder and quicker in perfect harmony.

Torio's breath came in shallow gasps, she had never known such pleasure in her short life. She never knew that an act used to control, to hurt, to punish, could also be used to show such unbridled passion and love. She felt the heat between her legs spread to her entire body as though fire had replaced the blood in her veins, wave after wave of intensity building on itself until she could take it no more. She arched her back and thrashed her head from side to side, sure that she would momentarily explode into thousands of pieces and disappear entirely.

Sand too fought for control. As he moved within her body, he listened to her moans and grunts, watched the pleasure wash across her beautiful face, and was awed. Her eyes would sometimes open halfway and she would look at him with a smile, her arms around him, her hands in his hair, holding him as she moved with him. He reached down between her legs and massaged her wet, firm nub as he continued to slide in and out of her, dragging those arousing moans forth from deep inside her chest.

Occasionally he would stop, and hold himself deep inside her, kissing her, sucking on her tongue, her lips. She gyrated her hips against him, anything to continue the deep aching pleasure of his member inside her.

"Please…" she begged. "Please, Althraion."

He gathered her close and held her as tight as he could, then thrust hard into her deeply, making her cry out. He felt her back arch and her body twitch, felt her spasm and grab him as she let go and watched tears leak from her eyes.

With one final, almost brutal thrust he released into her, holding himself inside, not wanting to break that precious vital connection.

His lips found hers again. "I love you, beautiful Torio, I have always loved you, and I always will."


	8. Chapter 8

_This is an AU. I'm not a stickler for accuracy in the details of the Neverwinter universe such as gods etc. but I do try my best. This story does have explicit sexual content, 18+. If you are offended by sexual themes don't start reading! There is artwork for this story at my deviantart account under aeltari._

Kyrie awoke still shivering in the darkness, but when she looked up, there was the strange green orb again. Her clothing was still wet, her long hair hung in clumps around her face. Ignoring the pain in her body, she forced herself to rise to her feet and move towards the orb.

It moved away, and Kyrie was taken on another miserable journey. She thought she would never again see daylight, when up ahead she saw a glimmer of light. If the ground hadn't been so rocky and uneven, she would have run towards it. Focusing on that light in the distance she didn't notice that the orb had vanished as she stumbled from the cave into a grassy patch of earth that sloped gently downward.

The orb in all its mystery vanished from her mind as though it were never there. Wherever she was, it was overcast, and a mist still lingered on the ground. Kyrie looked around, but saw no discernible path to follow. There was more field with long grass, dotted throughout by bushes. In the distance it appeared there was a forest of sorts.

She was cold, hungry and exhausted despite her troubled sleep on the rocks. It was important to find a place to rest, hopefully a town or a village where she could get her bearings and find out where she was. She wanted to go back to Torio's home and be safe with her friends. Wandering about alone and defenseless was not her idea of a good plan.

As she mulled over her needs, her mind suddenly went blank. She stopped walking.

_Why am I walking here?_ She thought. _What was I just thinking about?_ She frowned and looked quickly around. She couldn't grasp how she had gotten there! _I had been out walking, right? Out looking for something? Or was it someone? Or is this a dream_.

She accidentally hit her foot hard on a protruding rock and nearly fell, dismissing that thought as quickly as it came when the pain hit her brain. Puzzled, she tried hard to remember the events that had led her here and vaguely remembered a cave. She turned around and saw it, dark and foreboding. Had she come through there, or was something inside her warning her away?

Her wet clothing told her she been around water and not seeing any nearby she was sure it had to have been from the cave. She looked down at her hands and saw her jewelry, closely examining a bright silver ring carved with filigree and the letters K and C. Her initials? Most likely…but something inside told her that it should have more meaning then that. She turned the ring around and around.

_Kyrie…Kyrie…I'm Kyrie de…de….Kyrie Barrington_. That's it. She looked back at the cave. Going away from it seemed like the most logical plan and Kyrie shook her head to clear the feeling of fog from it.

"My name is Kyrie Barrington, I'm 20 years old, I'm an Aasimar. I have black hair and golden eyes. I'm from…from…my parents are…"

With shock she realized she had no idea where she was from or who her family was, and in truth she didn't know where she had come from nor where she was going. All she did know was that something inside her seemed to be leading her.

She smelled the smoke from a campfire before she saw hide nor hair of it. The light forest she had traversed for some time didn't look well travelled. The sparseness of the cover allowed her to walk through it, and she was relieved to think she was not alone any longer. Tired as she was, she did not stop and consider that the inhabitants of the camp might be hostile.

She found it, a derelict mess on the edge of a clearing. A few piles of blankets were strewn about, a very crude looking smoky campfire that had barely any embers, and a mess of what looked like animal bones. A log lay nearby, and on the other side a large boulder.

Something moved beside the boulder. It was grey and furred, and Kyrie had no time to cry out when it launched itself at her. It made no sound but hit her squarely in the chest, knocking her to the ground. She grunted and lashed out at it, expecting to feel sharp teeth sink into her flesh, but all she felt was a warm, wet tongue licking her face. A dog? She opened her eyes and saw a very large grey wolf grinning down at her.

"Karnwyr, come." A male voice barked a command and the wolf bounded away. Kyrie got up on all fours, looking for the man. He was standing where the wolf had been by the boulder, holding a bow at his side.

"I'm not going to ask you who you are, because I don't give a damn." His voice was hard. "Just get the hells away from my camp before I decide to put an arrow in your heart and feed you to my wolf."

Kyrie stood up, and the wolf Karnwyr bounded back, standing up on its hind legs and licking her face again. She patted the great head.

"I don't think your wolf wants to eat me," she said. "He's licking me."

The man hadn't moved. She approached him cautiously. He wore brown leather, the jacket badly torn in some spots. Rags were wrapped around his one arm and one of his legs. He was leaning on the boulder, as if he were in some sort of pain. The hand that held the bow hung limply at his side, and Kyrie saw that the arrows for it were scattered all over the campsite, a quiver resting empty beside the firepit. The man's hair was disheveled and dirty, his face carried uneven shadow stubble as though he had tried to shave without benefit of a mirror. His face was rugged and handsome, the eyes deep set. He couldn't have been that much older then her either. The man didn't move as she stepped closer.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to disturb you, but I'm very tired, and…"

"Didn't I say I don't give a damn?" he cut her off harshly and turned his head in her direction. Kyrie stifled a gasp. His eyes, which were a lovely amber color, looked vacantly through her. There was blood smeared across his mouth and one cheek, and dried drippings caked his neck.

Kyrie slowly waved a hand in front of him. The eyes didn't move. The man was blind! Realizing there wasn't much he could do to her, Kyrie stepped over to the fire and inspected it.

The wolf, figuring her to be a non threatening presence, disappeared into the underbrush and came back momentarily with a mammal in its mouth. It nuzzled the man's bow hand, and when it received no response, proceeded to sit in front of Kyrie, tail tip quivering.

"Karnwyr, we are _not_ feeding her. She is leaving." His voice was cold but quiet.

"No, I'm not" said Kyrie defiantly, surprising herself. "You are blind. You are no more going to put an arrow in me, then you are going to feed me to your wolf."

"Karnwyr!" he barked and the wolf walked over, head down, the mammal still in its mouth. The man took the carcass and raised it to his lips, tearing the fur and flesh off. He proceeded to eat and spit, then threw the carcass in Kyrie's direction. He was three feet off the mark.

"I'm still not leaving." She said as she turned her back to him. "If your wolf brings another carcass I will cook it over your fire here. How did you light this anyway?"

Something hit her hard in the back of her head.

"Ow!" she rubbed her head and looked for the object. It was a small wand. She examined it, then flicked it at the fire. Nothing happened. She waved it from side to side. Again nothing.

"How does it work?" she asked momentarily.

"You are so smart, you figure it out." said the man. He lowered himself carefully to the ground.

As if it understood her words, the wolf disappeared again, returning with a rabbit in its jaws some time later. Kyrie thanked it with a pat on the head, but still she couldn't make the wand create fire. Frustrated, she sat down on the ground and wished that she knew how magical devices worked. Night would come, and with it the cold, and her still wet clothing would make her even sicker then she felt she already was.

"I wish this would just work already!" she complained in frustration and pointed it at the sad little fire pit. The wand flared and a small ball of fire shot out and exploded. Kyrie let out a whoop and tried again, concentrating on the image of fire, and once more a ball shot out of the wand.

It was an elemental concentration device, manifesting the power of the elements. Kyrie pointed the wand at the forest, and set her mind on water. A stream of water shot out of the wand. She repeated it with every elemental substance she could think of, then set about building the fire up.

The man didn't move or speak. He sat and stared vacantly ahead. Kyrie cooked up the rabbit, and gave some to the wolf, ate a few morsels herself, then brought some to the man. She took his filthy hand with the intent of placing the meat into it. He snarled at her and lashed out.

"Don't touch me!"

Kyrie retrieved the pieces where they had fallen and this time put them on a stone beside him.

"Fine. I won't touch you. If you want your food its right beside your left knee."

She gathered up all of his arrows and replaced them into the quiver. She laid the quiver beside him. She found a bashed and dented metal cup, cleaned and filled it with water, and this too she placed beside him. As she moved around him she told him exactly what she was doing.

He didn't speak, but he devoured the pieces of meat and drank the water as though he had not seen any in a very long time. Kyrie gathered up the blankets and shook them out, then proceeded to remove her wet clothing and lay them on the log and boulder to dry.

"My name is K…"

"Shut up!" the man shouted viciously. "Shut the hells up! You talk too much! I don't give a damn what your name is! I want you to get lost and leave us alone!"

The wolf whined and licked the man's face.

Kyrie wrapped herself in one of the blankets and lay down beside the fire.

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Sand held tightly to Torio, stroking her bare shoulder and hair as she lay on his chest. They had wrapped themselves up in blankets and stoked the fire, creating pillows out of her saddlebags. The night was cool and quiet.

"Althraion, that was the first time I …well the first time I ever _let_ someone do that to me." She raised her head and looked up at him. "I never realized it could be so beautiful. Thank you."

The tenderness in his eyes almost made her weep. Never in her life had anyone looked at her that way. She couldn't have imagined how wonderful it would feel coming from him.

"Please tell me I didn't hurt you, "he whispered.

"No! No you didn't. It was everything I could ever have dreamed it could be. I just wish I hadn't been so blinded by stupidity back then, and…and more recently. I'm sorry for everything I have ever done that hurt you, Sand. Can you ever forgive me for what I have become?"

He squeezed her and kissed her hair. "That is past now, Torio dear. What matters now is the future."

"Sand…Althraion…I need to know that I have your forgiveness. If I haven't, then it's something I need to earn from you, and I will. Just…please don't leave me."

Sand propped himself up and looked into her earnest eyes.

"Torio…" he almost sang her name. "I forgive you. I have let all of that go now, I want you to do the same. Do you forgive me as well? For my foolish pride? For caring more about artifacts and scrolls then a living, breathing woman who needed me? Can you forgive me for simply leaving instead of fighting for your heart?"

The tears in Torio's eyes were not of sadness, but of relief.

"Of course I can Sand! Not once have I ever believed that you did anything wrong, so there is nothing to forgive really. In truth I felt it was all my folly, my desire for vengeance and need for power to achieve those ends. I wasn't capable of giving you my heart back then because it was me who was stupid. I have made a career out of _that_."

He sighed and lay back down, pulling her back onto his chest where she traced designs on his skin with her fingers.

"You are an incredible woman, Torio. I am fortunate to have your heart."

They lay together for a long time in silence, soaking up one another's comforting presence. It was Torio who spoke first.

"We _have_ to help Kyrie. She's so lost without Casavir. I truly didn't know what that felt like until now. When I think of losing you…Sand, I would rather die a thousand deaths then lose you again. She gave me a second chance. And because she did that both my kids and grandfather have a second chance too."

"Are they truly your children, Torio?" he asked curiously.

"Are they mine? Yes. Did they come from my body? No."

"So tell me about them, _a'maelamin, _beloved"

Torio curled a few strands of his hair around her fingers.

"After I left the gypsy caravan, I met a merchant who was travelling with a little girl. I thought it was his daughter. She became very attached to me. I have never been around children, I really didn't know what to do about that, but the merchant told me he had found her wandering the streets of Luskan. Her father had died at sea, and her mother had been killed by bandits. He took the child with him rather then see her meet a crueler fate on the streets, but he didn't do very well and was unable to care for her properly. When I met her, Marian was so dirty and ragged, it made my heart so sad. He begged me to take her with me. He said he was terrified of the bad karma he would get if the child died while in his care. I didn't know why he thought I could do any better then him, but it was not like I could have refused anyways. Marian was already calling me mama and refused to leave my side. When the merchant and I parted ways, I took her with me."

Sand exhaled loudly.

"I owe you the deepest apology, my dearest Torio. Some of the things I said to you were cruel and uncalled for, especially now that I realize what you did."

Torio shrugged. "Right is right. Kyrie taught me that."

"And what of your son? And the old man? Is he your kin?"

"No. We came to that village looking for work and a place to live. I met a dwarf and his wife, they own the bakery. They hired me on and told me about the little boy and his grandfather. We met the boy Matteus then and he told us he lived with his grandfather in that little house, but the old man went blind and Matt couldn't leave him alone to go find work. They lived off the kindness of the villagers. That's how it is there. He struck up an instant friendship with Marian and before long she was calling him her brother. Grandfather wanted us to live with them and the rest is history."

Sand squeezed her long and hard. "The dwarf I saw when we left, is she the baker?"

"Yes. They will care for my children and Grandfather until I come back."

There was an unspoken sentiment in the air then, a fear, an unknowing.

_What if we don't come back? _


	9. Chapter 9

_This is an AU. I'm not a stickler for accuracy in the details of the Neverwinter universe such as gods etc. but I do try my best. This story does have explicit sexual content, 18+. If you are offended by sexual themes don't start reading! There is artwork for this story at my deviantart account under aeltari._

The man was still sitting in the same spot when Kyrie awoke the next morning. He had slumped over, his head resting on the wolf, but he hadn't moved from the boulder.

Kyrie's clothing had dampened again with the morning dew, but with no sign of clouds in the sky she knew they would dry in no time. Her underclothes were dry and since _he_ was blind she didn't mind wearing them until the others dried.

Karnwyr raised his head and looked at her, then eased himself out from under his companion. Giving a long stretch and a big yawn and shake, the wolf ambled over to Kyrie and licked her face. Kyrie picked up the elemental wand and restarted the fire.

"Can you find some food for us?" she asked. Karnwyr tilted his head then lifted his muzzle and gave her a soft woof, before bounding off.

Kyrie warmed up some water in the battered cup, and tore a strip off her blanket. Dipping it into the water, she crawled over to the still sleeping man, and proceeded to clean the blood off his face and neck. He stirred, then the sightless amber eyes flashed open. Kyrie moved out of the way of his lashing, striking arms and foul words.

"Are you finished now?" she asked. "I'm going to clean your face up. Then when Karnwyr comes back with breakfast I'm going to cook it. Then we are going to eat. Remember, you have to sleep eventually, and if you give me too much trouble I'm going to tie you up when you do to get it done!"

The expression on his face went from rage to sullenness. "Why?" he asked harshly.

"Why clean you up? Because," said Kyrie lightly. "You have beautiful eyes and I wish to see them better."

He snorted but didn't say a word, nor did he try to hit her when she came near him to clean his face.

They ate whatever prey Karnwyr brought to the camp. Kyrie shaved the man's face and cleaned him up, bit by bit.

"I know you don't give a 'damn' about me," she asked. "but I give one about you and I want to know your name. I will make something up to call you if you don't tell me so it's your choice."

"Bishop" he growled, and said nothing more for several hours.

Kyrie noticed that he favored one of his legs, and she approached him about it one afternoon.

"I might be able to help you with that leg you know."

"You touch me enough as it is. Leave me the hells alone." His voice was tinged with pain and she knew that he didn't want her to touch him for fear of suffering more. As horrid as he was, Kyrie didn't want him to hurt from an injury that could possibly be helped. As helpless as he already was, having permanent damage to a limb was a sure fire way to end up dead sooner or later. She had to find a way to examine that leg.

Kyrie waited until the early morning hours. She crept over to the sleeping Bishop and lay her hands on his injured leg. She didn't see any obvious wounds and assumed the injury was to the muscle or bone as he stirred when she palpated it. The worst of his pain seemed to come from his upper thigh and hip.

Karnwyr opened an eye briefly but closed it again and resumed dozing when she patted his head. As she ran her hands along Bishop's leg she felt a flush spread from her head, down her chest to her arms and hands. There, a soft blue glow appeared and spread across his leg. Intrigued, she palpated the area again and he didn't make a sound. She pressed harder, hard enough to cause him pain if there was any. There was no reaction.

Something poked at the back of her mind, something familiar about the warmth and the blue glow but she couldn't bring up any details. That pervasive feeling of a memory just below the surface, teasing her with its certainty but remaining just out of her grasp.

Whatever had happened seemed to have healed his leg, or at least removed the pain but there would be no way to tell if it were truly fixed or simply dulled until he tried to move it. She crawled back to her side of the fire and went back to sleep.

When morning came she cooked the rabbit Karnwyr brought, and set out everyone's portions. She gave the wolf her bit; food didn't seem too appealing to her at the moment and the wolf looked hungry. She called to Bishop.

"Come on over here and get your breakfast!"

"Bring it here!" he snarled.

"If you want it, it's right here. Come and eat it." She wanted to see him move the leg. He refused to give in and sat there.

Bishop, in his stubbornness, didn't eat for an entire day.

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"Where is it?" he demanded, standing. He didn't seem to be favoring that leg anymore, but didn't seem to notice that it had miraculously gotten better. He probably assumed it had just gone away on its own, which most injuries are apt to do. She didn't think his leg would have done that anytime soon, but mentioning the entire situation would have caused a big drama so she kept quiet.

Kyrie called his name. He turned his head with the sightless eyes in her direction.

"Its here. There is nothing to trip you up just walk about 6 steps the way you are facing."

He took one careful step, then another. His foot landed on a small stick and he reflexively put his arms out, dropping his bow. He lowered himself to all fours and felt around for it, but was kneeling on the string and couldn't pick it up. Kyrie told him about it, and encouraged him to walk without it, saying she would give it back to him after.

He rose awkwardly to his feet, and step by tentative step he found his way to her, squinting and blinking his eyes as though doing so would give him some form of vision. Kyrie felt her heart twitch in sympathy for him but she knew that wouldn't help him at all. When he reached her she handed him his food with a kind word. He stuffed it in his mouth and swallowed it when suddenly without a warning, he lashed out with his arms and shoved Kyrie hard. She lost her balance and fell on the wolf, who gave a loud startled bark.

"Why did you do that?!" she shouted at Bishop. "You are so horrid! Don't you care about Karnwyr? I could have hurt him! Then how would you eat? That wolf keeps you alive you ungrateful monster!"

She got to her feet and dusted herself off, rubbing her abdomen where the pain had started up again.

His moment of rage sated, Bishop's arms hung limply at his sides and his head drooped.

"Why are you even here? I don't want you. I don't need you."

"Maybe so, but I need your wolf to keep _me_ alive too. I don't want to be here with you either, but I don't know where _'here'_ even is. I think I'm sick, and I just want to… to go home."

"So go back! I don't want to hear about it!" he shouted.

"I don't know where I am _to_ go back! I don't even know how I got here! You aren't the only one suffering, Bishop! And I'm not leaving you here to die!"

"You sound _just_ like someone I used to know. Always trying to save the gods forsaken world, even though it didn't want to be saved! I tried to tell her to give it all up, run away with me…but no…she _had_ to do it." He gave the earth a savage kick, sending a clump of earth and a few pebbles flying.

"Oh I see. A woman. Bishop, why would _any_ woman want to run away with you anyway? You are abrasive and violent. Maybe if you had shown her some kindness she would have gone with you!"

"Shut up you stupid harpy!" He lashed at the empty air in her direction but wouldn't move his feet.

"That's your answer for everything isn't it! Shut everyone up when you don't like what they have to say. It's terribly unfortunate too. As handsome as you are, maybe if she had been a wizard with a silence spell you would have been worth keeping around!"

He turned his head in her direction, his expression cold, his voice low.

"I betrayed her."

"There's a surprise. Why?"

"She chose _him_. Self-righteous, overstuffed, boring, prig of a paladin!"

"So you got revenge. How?"

Bishop clenched and unclenched his fists. "I broke the gate and let the undead in. She was dead anyhow. No way could they have won that battle. I would have taken her with me! I would have protected her til my dying day. But I wasn't good enough for her, my love wasn't good enough."

"Your _love?_ I don't think you have a _clue_ what love is, Bishop. I know…shut up harpy. Doesn't change anything, though."

"I don't give a damn! She's dead now anyway. _He's_ dead too. Did the world a huge favor by leaving it." Bishop gave a harsh barking laugh.

Kyrie moved away, to the far side of the camp with the log and wrapped herself in her blanket. She watched Bishop grope his way back to his rock and turn around, his eyes staring at her but not seeing a thing, and sink down. His leg, for all intents and purposes was definitely no longer injured. His bow still lay in the dirt where he had dropped it. She had no intention of retrieving it and risk being struck again.

Kyrie lay down with her head resting against the log. She was always tired, and still felt slightly ill. Eating rabbit every day must be wearing on her, but she had no idea how to use a bow to hunt anything else, and was doubtful that the ever helpful Bishop would show her how. Karnwyr gave a low whine and crawled over to her, resting his head on her hip.

"Traitor!" called Bishop, but he didn't call the wolf back.

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"We need to find a town," said Sand. He pulled at his shirt and breeches. "I look ridiculous like this, I _need_ a robe. I still think there are twigs in my hair too, Torio dear."

Torio stopped what she was doing and looked at him with a grin. "I think you look wonderful with or without robe. Really, I sort of prefer you without _anything_ but that's just me…" She walked over and put her arms around him, her head on his shoulder.

"_Amin mela lle_, Althraion"

He gave a joyful exclamation. "Elvish! Torio, I had no idea you knew any elvish!" He squeezed her lovingly.

"I know a lot of the insults that's for sure, but as an ambassador I had to learn as many languages as possible. However, the more flowery elvish I picked up on my own, in case one day…" she raised her head and looked into his eyes.

His blue eyes filled with tenderness.

"You thought about me, even after I stopped coming around?"

"Sand, I looked for you at one point. I was told that you left the Hosttower with a price on your head. Information from the Arcane Brotherhood is scant at best. What happened there?"

Sand smoothed her hair back from her face and kissed her forehead. "The price for knowledge began to grow far too steep for me. The things they made me do … I just couldn't stomach it after awhile. I left, and a bounty was placed on me. I was taken in by Neverwinter under the condition that I spy for Nasher and Nevalle. I set up a shop in the docks and tried to live my life free of Luskan drama."

"Did you ever think of me?" Torio's grey eyes were expectant.

"I did indeed, but not always in flattering terms, _a'melamin_. You did reject me, after all. That sort of thing stays with a person for a very long time." He stroked her face, smiling. He saw the shades of regret move across her eyes, and kissed her gently, his tongue grazing her lips.

"That is over now, Torio. We have found each other and have a life to plan. I need to get started on that army of little wizards with which to take over the world."

Torio laughed, then her face grew serious. "You actually wish to have children with me?"

"Why, of course I do, silly girl!"

Torio pulled him closer to her, their lips brushing together. Her hand caught a twig that indeed was tangled up in his hair and pulled it free. He was pressed against her, she could feel his excitement growing. It would be so easy to take him into her, again and again…but her thoughts turned to Kyrie.

"Sand, I want to stay here with you forever, but I can't knowing Kyrie is out there somewhere, and Casavir is being tortured to death in a Luskan prison. We need to ride hard to the next town and get our bearings."

He sighed and kissed her once more. "You are correct. Do you still have access to any Luskan spies? Maybe they just need a little motivation to start singing."

He did an ungainly climb up onto his horse's back, and looked on with envy as Torio vaulted gracefully onto hers.

"Oh, and Torio?" he called, remembering her elvish words from earlier.

She turned in the saddle.

"I love you, too."

With a yip of joy, she moved the horse into a canter, Sand's horse following suit.

He held on with both hands again. "Oh, hells hells _hells_!"


	10. Chapter 10

_This is an AU. I'm not a stickler for accuracy in the details of the Neverwinter universe such as gods etc. but I do try my best. This story does have explicit sexual content, 18+. If you are offended by sexual themes don't start reading! There is artwork for this story at my deviantart account under aeltari._

"I need you to teach me how to use the bow." said Kyrie looking down at Bishop.

"Don't think so." He responded, pulling it up onto his lap.

"We need to eat more then just rabbits. I…I'm not doing very well."

He shifted onto his other hip and turned his head away. "Remind me again why I should care. Wait…it doesn't matter. I won't give a damn anyway. You aren't touching my bow. "

"You have to sleep sometime."

"And? Still won't help you use it properly." He shot out one leg in a sweep, trying to hit her. He wasn't even close. She had learned to stand out of his reach.

Kyrie resisted the urge to reach down and slap him; he was at such a great disadvantage it didn't seem right no matter how abrasive and violent he was.

She sat down cross legged, and pulled a large stick towards her. She poked his leg. Then she poked his hand. Then she poked his mid section. He lashed out each time with a foul word, but not once did he hit the stick.

"Stop being so out of control." she said. "If you want to hit the stick, concentrate on it, find it, and hit it. Your mindless lashing is a useless waste of energy."

She began to poke him again. She watched as he turned his head this way and that, trying to track it. He got angry, he let out a string of foul words, but continued to lash out mindlessly.

"Your vision isn't the only sense you have, Bishop. You were a ranger, you used other ones. Stop being so angry at everything and use them."

Bishop snarled at her in his customary charismatic fashion, then he sat still, his eyes closed. Kyrie made to poke him again, and he suddenly lunged for the stick, catching it in both hands. He wrenched it free from her with a yell and struck out, hitting her very hard on the shoulder. She yelped in pain and shock. He was on his knees then, bringing it down again and again. Kyrie couldn't move away quick enough, and she got caught in her skirt. The stick hit her in the head, then on her legs as she scrambled away.

Karnwyr leaped at Bishop and tore the stick from his hands, then stood and howled and barked until Bishop sat back down, breathing heavily.

Kyrie had crawled to the other side of the camp and wrapped herself up in the blanket. She was trembling, her sunset eyes large and liquid with unshed tears. She supposed she _had_ deserved his ire then, what with poking him the way she had, but she wanted him to stop feeling sorry for himself just because he was blind. Her shoulder and head hurt, her legs stung terribly and with a sob she felt the warm flood of tears course down her cheeks.

"What in the nine hells are you crying about?" yelled Bishop.

"You hurt me," said Kyrie quietly.

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That night she awoke to find Bishop crawling through the camp on all fours, feeling his way around, his bow forgotten beside the boulder. Karnwyr had lain next to Kyrie, trying to muzzle his way under the blanket. The night was very chilly and she shivered despite the blanket and the warm wolf. The pain in her abdomen was back, and she rubbed it gingerly.

She was starting to feel that she would be trapped with the monstrous, cruel Bishop til she died. She needed to leave this pathetic camp but she couldn't leave him alone and helpless. It wouldn't be long until he died in some awful way, especially if anything ever happened to Karnwyr. The stark reality was that the wolf wouldn't live forever, and Bishop needed to be in a town, hopefully with people who would help him. She sighed. His nightmarish behavior would make it hard for anyone to reach out to him, but she hoped that if he were desperate enough perhaps he would keep his temper in check. Thinking of leaving this place gave her some comfort and Kyrie drifted off to sleep. She kept an ear on Bishop, but he ended up thankfully passing out somewhere not too close by.

The following day Karnwyr was long in returning with the morning meal. Without the wolf's protection, Kyrie avoided Bishop entirely. Although the animal was obviously his companion, the wolf seemed to have adopted her and shown a strange sense of wariness towards Bishop in regards to Kyrie. She remained curled up by the log, tightly wrapped in the blanket. The nausea was back, and Kyrie had to wonder if it wasn't another by-product of the headache she had suffered from the stick's blows.

She watched Bishop crawl from his sleeping place and feel his way around the fire pit.

"Karnwyr! Come!" he ordered.

There was no responsive shuffle, whine, or lick to his face. He called again. He crawled around the pit once more, and called to the wolf. The desperation was mounting in his voice. He turned his head from side to side, then tilted it, listening.

Kyrie remained motionless.

Bishop stood up, hands outstretched, and took a few steps away from the pit. He was trying to find his boulder, his safe zone, she thought. He began cussing at the wolf, yelling for him. Then he called for Kyrie, using every adjective for female he could think of.

Stumbling helplessly through the camp, he fell several times, but kept trying to find his boulder.

Bishop was going in completely the wrong direction to find what he was looking for. He got to the edge of the camp and stumbled into the field. He realized that he was no longer in his camp and called for the wolf again. Then he ran forward a few steps and fell in the grass, enraged and yelling.

He sat there afterwards for a long time, and Kyrie went back to sleep. She awoke to his bellowing for the wolf again, taking awkward directionless steps. A bird flew out from the tall grass, and Bishop swung his arms at it, shouting. He continued his panicked flinging at every sound the field gave up. She could hear the terror in his voice as he called for the wolf, and for her.

He no longer used colorful adjectives to describe her, resorting simply to _woman_ and _girl_. Karnwyr had never left his side for this long, of that she was sure. She had to admit that she was also growing concerned about the animal's absence. Many hours had passed and there was no sign of the wolf. She looked across the campsite at the bow and quiver. She would have to figure out how to use it to keep them alive if Karnwyr didn't return. She had grown attached to the big grey beast and was worried.

Perhaps she needed to try and find him, but what to do about Bishop and his aimless wandering?

Kyrie unfolded herself from the blanket and stood up, following him. He was still in the field moving towards the little forest, walking unsteadily like a drunken soldier.

_You do need someone_, she thought watching him sadly. _No one can go this world alone. _

Bishop kept wandering, hands outstretched, yelling curses at the gods, at the wolf, at her, at people and places she had no idea about. There was no sun's heat with which to check his direction, so he just moved aimlessly lost and slowly step by step his rage dissipated. He reached the small, sparse forest, hitting his head hard on a tree when his hands failed to notify him of it.

He sank to the ground and crawled for awhile, then Kyrie saw him sit back against a tree, his arms wrapped around his knees, head down. She walked closer and heard the sobs tearing from him. She knew he would probably attack her viciously when she came near, but she couldn't stand to see him suffer. Whoever he was now, he had once been a ranger, a self sufficient harbinger of the wilds. Now the wilds he loved had turned into a deadly prison. Whatever had happened to blind him was fairly recent and had ripped away everything he knew. His fear was palpable.

Kyrie stood beside him and put her hand on his head. He turned and wrapped his arms around her legs, his head against her thighs, and wept like a lost child.

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Karnwyr had dragged a small deer to the camp, and lay beside his prize, panting heavily, eyes smiling.

Kyrie had led Bishop back by walking backwards holding both of his hands. He had held very tightly to her, and often he would stop, the very act of walking an exhausting trial. She encouraged him by telling him how far they were.

Reaching his boulder she placed one of his hands on it then placed his bow in the other. He sighed gratefully and sank down, legs drawn up.

Kyrie proceeded to skin the deer, the knowledge obviously something she had had before, laying the skin out to dry. She cut the meat up as best she could with Bishop's dulling knife, and the wolf set to cleaning the meat off the bones. She tried not to look at his bloody muzzle as he devoured the internal organs.

When he was finished she tossed the remains as far from the camp as possible, and the ravens came down for the feast.

She cooked up the rest.

Bits of bark she had collected and scraped out served as their plates, and they shared the battered cup between the three of them. When she placed Bishop's meal on his lap he reached up a hand, grasped her skirt and pulled her down beside him. She sat awkwardly down, and he reached an arm around her neck and pulled her close. With the other hand he took a piece of the deer from his 'plate' and tried to feed her, missing her mouth entirely. She caught his hand and brought it to her lips, taking the meat from him.

Bishop did not eat a single bite of the meat until Kyrie said she was full.

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"We have to start exploring a bit, Bishop" she told him one morning. "If you don't want to come, I understand, but I have to find out where we are."

He had been very quiet the last several days, since the incident in the forest. He held onto her during every meal, and if she moved around the camp he would call out _"where are you?"_ several times, even when Karnwyr was right beside him. His violence seemed to have dissipated, and he allowed her to wash and shave him regularly without so much as a complaint.

"I want to go with you," he answered. "You know, just in case."

She didn't ask in case of what, being blind didn't give him the luxury of defending her or himself "in case" of anything.

"Alright, tomorrow we will explore around here some, get you used to walking better. Don't worry Bishop, you can keep a hand on my shoulder or hold my hand if you like. We won't be going far."

Kyrie stood up and looked for Karnwyr. The wolf appeared from the field and bounded over, a stick in his muzzle. She proceeded to toss the stick for him, marveling that a wild animal would be interested in such domestic dog games. Karnwyr retrieved that stick and several other things including a rock and when he tired of retrieving began to invite her to wrestle with him.

Kyrie got down on all fours and reared and woofed like a wolf, giggling like a child, pretending to wag an invisible tail, rolling around on the earth with the animal for a bit. Stopping to rest, she looked over at Bishop, and stopped short when she saw his face.

He was smiling, all the way to his amber eyes and she was struck at how truly handsome he was. Her breath caught in her throat and she crawled over to him.

"I do wish you would do that more," she whispered. Bishop, the smile remaining on his lips turned his head towards her. He raised a hand and tentatively searched for her face. She moved closer, eyes closed, and his fingertips touched her forehead, trailing down her eyes, over her nose and lips. He stroked her cheek, then laid his hand on the side of her face. Reaching with the other hand he touched her shoulder and pulled her down into his arms.

She fell awkwardly onto him, and he held her like a child holds a beloved stuffed toy.

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"What do you look like?" he asked one day as she shaved and washed him up.

He was wearing only his breeches, she had painstakingly washed his clothing in the cave river and lay it out to dry. He had still not let her out of his 'sight' once. They walked with his hand on her shoulder, and he had taken to lifting his feet high off the ground, like a fancy parade horse, when they were in unfamiliar territory.

He carried the quiver and bow with him even though she doubted he could use it at all. It gave him a feeling of security.

"I have black hair," she said simply. "Its long, and I have it hanging loose most of the time."

"What color are your eyes? Probably green, like summer grass."

"Bishop, I sincerely doubt you could guess the color of my eyes."

He laughed and slapped his knee. "Sounds like a bet! You're on! So what do I get if I'm right, huh?"

"You can have an extra helping of meat at dinner." She offered, smiling.

"Nuh-uh. If I'm right, I get to kiss you. Deal? I guess your eye color, I get a kiss."

As Kyrie was sure he never would, she agreed and sat down beside him in the grass.

His lovely amber eyes fixed unseeingly on her. He reached out a hand and ran his fingertips gently down her face, then grasped a handful of her hair and let it strain through his fingers. His voice was gentle, more gentle then she thought him capable of.

"Your hair is wavy and heavy when it's wet, but once the wind has it, it takes on a life of its own and straightens out like wild grass. When you are angry, you chew on a finger and stare at the ground. Someone, somewhere in your bloodline wasn't human but angelic. Your greatest strength is your heart, there is no one too far beneath your notice to care for. And your eyes…"

Kyrie's breath was already shallow with shock. He was right on all counts.

"...there are few things as beautiful as a summer sunset, and to look in your eyes is to see exactly that, the golden rays of the setting sun as it falls beneath the horizon. The lady with the sunset eyes…" he stopped and closed his eyes and was quiet for a long moment.

"H…how did you ever guess that?" Kyrie asked softly.

"What? I was _right_?" he asked incredulously. He threw his arms up in a victory gesture. "What are the chances of that! You owe me a kiss, girl!"

He stood up and reached a hand down for her. She fully expected him to grab her forcefully and plant it with all the dignity of an orc, and she braced herself.

Bishop drew her to him slowly, slipping an arm around her waist. His other hand touched her hair, her neck, traced the lines of her cheek and jaw. With two fingers beneath her chin, he tilted her head up, and tenderly brushed her lips with his once, then again. The amber eyes were closed, and the hand at the small of her back trembled slightly.

He kissed her again, this time his lips were parted slightly.

"Bishop, I…can't…" she tried to pull away, something in her mind screaming at her, but he held her firm, his cheek against hers, before pressing his lips to hers again, and this time she didn't resist.

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Kyrie curled up in her blanket beside the log, as she did every night, Karnwyr beside her. The fire blazed, their bellies were full, and soon she dozed off. She woke up not long after to see Bishop crawling across the ground towards her, dragging his blanket. He curled up with his head on her hip, his hands between his knees.

"I don't want to be alone" he whispered.

Kyrie touched his head gently and went back to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

_This is an AU. I'm not a stickler for accuracy in the details of the Neverwinter universe such as gods etc. but I do try my best. This CHAPTER HAS EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT, 18+. If you are offended by sexual themes don't start reading! There is artwork for this story at my deviantart account under aeltari._

Kyrie told Bishop that it was time for them to move on. She needed to find a town, find out where she was.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I …I have to find…" her mind drew a blank.

She knew she needed to leave the forest and get back to civilization, but for the life of her she couldn't remember exactly why. Their days together had filled her mind, and she felt needed and useful. Bishop and Karnwyr never left her side, and the three of them developed a tender, supportive relationship.

Kyrie felt content in the wilds with them, but there was always something in the back of her mind telling her that she couldnt stay.

Day by day, as their relationship strengthened, it seemed that she was losing something, but she couldn't put a finger on what it was. Occasionally Bishop would ask her about her past, and she would just say she didn't remember. He didn't believe her, but left it alone. He enjoyed having her with him, and he never wanted to let her go. She cared for him, she forgave him, and most of all she treated him kindly without reproach, even though he had told her some of the most evil things he had done. She had asked him a few questions that he also had no answers for. There was no memory of the events that led to his blindness, and concentrating on remembering it always brought excruciating pain to his head and he soon learned to leave that subject well enough alone.

With this gentle lady at his side, he didn't care to dwell on the past anymore, but found himself planning a future for the first time in his life. What worried him sometimes were her sudden silences, as though something were bothering her. He would ask about it, and she would always say there was a memory just beneath the surface that she desperately needed to recall. It was that latent memory that kept forcing her to leave the wilds.

They had reached a fence line and made camp. The fence looked as though it had once been part of a homestead, but most of it had fallen down and been reclaimed by the forest.

The fire burned higher and hotter that night, there hadn't been much rain and the wood she collected was eager to ignite.

Karnwyr brought several rabbits, being on the move had given him new motivation to hunt. Kyrie gathered up some wild berries and herbs and prepared their feast.

There was a river nearby, and when the moon came out she led Bishop over, describing it to him in detail. She told him how large and luminous the moon was, how it reflected on the busy little river. She described the grass and the few shade trees dotting the edges, and the colors that seemed so bright despite it being night.

She pulled him down to sit beside her and took off her shoes, dipping her feet in the water. Bishop said he wanted to do the same, and he tossed his boots aside.

After a time he lay back, and pulled her down beside him, his arm around her, her head on his chest.

Softly, he began to sing.

Kyrie would never have thought that such a quiet, gentle voice could have come from a man like him. He was surely no bard, but the emotion in his voice brought tears to her eyes.

His song described a far away place, and a lady who lived there. She learned the chorus and sang it with him.

They were silent for some time after that, Kyrie gazing at the reflection of the moon on the river, and Bishop lost in his own thoughts.

Then softly he began reciting a poem, which moved into a slow, lilting song.

Kyrie's breath caught in her throat as she listened to the words.

_Her head was cloaked in ebony_

_They say she wasn't but a child_

_From deep within the Mere she came_

_Eyes like a sunset, glowing wild_

_An angel from her bloodline claimed_

_Gave her a heart that knew no fear_

_Her life she pledged to those she loved_

_Her immortal soul to the good god Tyr_

_A shard of silver lodged in her heart_

_A beacon to those whose who would do great harm_

_But e'en one of darkness could not hide_

_And fell beneath the lady's charm_

_From the wilds they say he came_

_And tried to take her heart away_

_But so given to her cause was she_

_Her only choice was that she stay_

_Then to her light was drawn another_

_A heart of virtue, pure and strong_

_Taken by this holy warrior_

_In his arms she did belong_

_Side by side they fought the darkness_

_Their only light in each other's eyes_

_The battles raged, the lines were drawn_

_Til the tide was turned by the other's lies_

_A curse of darkness this one did harbor_

_Against the heart she held so dear_

_Vengeance was his only mission_

_Destroy the beloved of the girl from the Mere_

_The sunset eyes never wavered once_

_She looked on to the battle ahead_

_A prayer on her lips of forgiveness_

_For that dark one who wished every one of them dead_

_A great battle was fought for the life of the world_

_A fortress of stone never meant to see light_

_She vanquished the evil, but fate took a hand_

_And buried them all in the midst of their flight_

_It is said her beloved laid down his life_

_For his lady love and the friends she held dear_

_And the good god Tyr took her in his arms_

_To his throne on the mount, far away from the Mere._

Bishop's voice wavered and broke, and tears rolled from his eyes. He covered them with his arm and tried to stifle the sobs coming from deep within his chest.

Kyrie sat up and pulled him into her arms, stroking his hair, murmuring soothingly to him. He cried as though his heart were shattered.

"You were right when you said I don't know what love is! I loved her, and all anyone remembers is the evil I did! I didn't deserve her, and she knew it. That's why she chose _him_! Gods, if I could only have a second chance, this time it would be different I swear it…but she's gone…"

He clung to her, and she realized that the poor man had been harboring a terrible pain for most of his life.

"Bishop, you cannot possibly know how to love if you have never been shown it before! It's over now…you can start anew."

"Who would want a blind, decrepit mess like me? I can't even take care of myself without Karnwyr."

"Yes you can. We have been working on that and you are doing great. Karnwyr will be able to be your eyes, and we will find a village where you can live and not be alone anymore."

"I'm not alone anymore, I have you." He said it quietly, between sobs, almost as if he were asking her to confirm the truth of it, which she couldn't do.

"Bishop…you do have me. But … I …"

"You need to go on some mission that you don't remember. And…we can't go with you, can we."

"My heart tells me this is something you can't go with me on, no. I can't tell you exactly what it is, just that I have to do it."

He remained holding onto her, his head on her chest, her hands stroking his hair and his face.

Her feelings for this broken, vulnerable man had been growing day by day. She started to feel the pull of the village less and less, and her heart was asking her questions. Did she truly want to leave him alone, in a strange village at the mercy of strangers? Did she truly want to unravel the mystery behind the hidden memories she had? What if they were better left alone? What if living her days out with this handsome stranger with the amber eyes was, in truth, her destiny? She loved being with him, caring for him; she loved his voice, his smile, his lips. She loved his vulnerability and the strength that lay behind it. It frightened her that she was falling in love with Bishop. There seemed to be so much about herself she didn't know. Was it fair to drag someone along on that journey?

He straightened himself and sat up, pulling off his leather tunic, then the light cotton shirt he wore beneath it.

"I want to go in the river." He said. "Water is a great healer. Or so the druids say."

Kyrie looked at his body in the moonlight. He was well built, but not in a warrior way. His musculature was smaller, less defined but his skin was smooth, despite the few scars that crisscrossed his upper arms and shoulders.

"Not sure I want to try this on my own yet, will you come in with me?" He stood up and unbuckled his breeches, pulling them off with almost no loss of balance.

She tried not to look at his nakedness but was unable to help herself. He was, in a word, beautiful. The firmness of his buttocks, the strength of his upper thighs…she tried not to look too long at his member which stirred feelings inside her she didn't want to deal with.

She puzzled for a short moment how she would help him in the water without getting undressed herself, when she remembered: he was blind.

"Just a moment then. I need to get undressed." He stood patiently while she removed her clothing and folded them neatly in a pile, unlike Bishop who had tossed his down without a second thought. Taking his hand she led him to the edge of the bank.

"Let me get in first Bishop. I don't know how deep it is or how rocky."

The river bottom was sandy, and she felt a few rocks but no plants or anything that could cause too many problems. She told him to step down, gauged the distance of the drop, and asked him to put his hands on both her shoulders so she could lead them in. It wasn't a large river, and at the center the water came to her waist. It felt so good to have the cool running water on her body, and finding a sandy spot took Bishop's hand from her shoulder and turned around.

"Kneel down here. Its sandy and we can feel the water flow all around us."

They knelt together in the water and Kyrie closed her eyes. She listened to it bubble along, heard the crickets in the grass and the occasional owl call out to its mate. Her hair flowed all around her, and she dipped her head back to wet all of it.

Keeping a hold of her hand, Bishop dunked his head in also then shook himself like a dog. Kyrie laughed. Karnwyr sniffed the ground on the nearby bank, put his muzzle into the water to lap at it, then lay back down on the side with his head on her clothing.

"Does Karnwyr swim?" she asked Bishop.

"Yeah, he does. But I taught him that he doesn't swim around me. First time we tried that he raked his claws down my leg and I don't need to tell you how much that hurt."

Kyrie laughed some more.

Bishop moved a bit closer to her and put his arms around her waist. She felt awkward, unsure what to do, and ended up with her arms on his chest.

"I wish I could see you, right now I wish to the hells I could see you." His voice was soft and husky.

Kyrie knew that he was excited by her nearness, his member was up and looking for attention, pressed against her abdomen. Her heart skipped several beats as his amber eyes went from the moon to her, and she imagined that he _could_ see her.

He put one hand on the side of her face and closed his eyes. Bending his head down, he kissed her tenderly, then returning both arms around her waist, he pulled her tightly to him. He lifted her off her knees with his strong arms, and _her_ arms went around his neck in response to his kiss.

Half of her was fighting it, the other half giving in.

As she moved to keep her balance in the flowing water, she felt his hardness between her legs. He kept a tight hold on her, his lips against hers, his tongue seeking entry between her teeth.

She allowed his kiss, allowed his tongue to entwine with hers. He quickly moved his hands to her thighs, spreading her legs, holding her open against him. With one hand he slipped his fingers between her soft folds, seeking her most sensitive areas, pushing on them, probing them, stroking them.

She moaned against his lips as she felt him slip a finger inside her, probing deeply. He then removed it to stroke her soft outer lips.

Kyrie gasped in shock then as he pushed the entire length of his hard member into her at once, impaling her onto him. He held her there as he kissed her neck, her chest, took her erect nipples into his mouth and sucked them hard. Her mind was reeling. She didn't know if she had ever been taken with such voracity before, in truth she couldn't remember if she had ever _been_ with a man before.

He had her stretched open so much it hurt, and he seemed to fill her up inside to the point she didn't think she could take any more. He began to move inside her, pulling himself nearly all the way out before plunging deep in again. He held her so tightly, she couldn't move. Her body tensed up against the pain.

"Bishop! Please…" she cried. "You are hurting me!"

Bishop stopped moving and loosened his hold on her. His lips found hers again and he kissed her with tenderness, gently sucking on her tongue and lips before slowly moving in and out of her once more. He didn't go in as deep or pull back as much, but rocked against her slowly, giving little grunts of passion every now and then and stopping when it became too much for him.

Gradually, Kyrie adjusted to him and she began to feel a deep pleasure that began between her legs and spread out like a fire to her chest and head. Despite the cool water, she was hot, and she felt her insides begin to twitch. Bishop kissed her cheek and began singing softly to her, a song that she knew she had heard before, a song of passion, of love.

He continued his slow steady strokes in rhythm with his song and the heat kept building inside her, waves of pleasure with each inward motion that made her cling onto him tighter as her body clenched and pulsed around him.

"Let go," he whispered softly. "Let go with me."

He moved harder, his thrusts becoming more urgent, sharper, deeper, contacting parts inside her that she never knew she had, giving pleasure to her that she would never have thought possible. Beneath the intensity was still the pain, but it was drowned out by his insistence to bring her to release.

Kyrie threw her head back, her ebony hair slapping against the water. She felt her entire being close in on itself then explode in a moment of extreme ecstasy. She cried out his name, her hands in his hair, and he thrust viciously, deeply inside her, holding her down onto him and she felt his member pulsing and throbbing as he released his seed deep into her.

She collapsed, her face pressed against his neck, her arms holding onto him, feeling him still inside her, still hard, still filling her, stretching her. For long moments they remained this way, feeling the water flow around them. Bishop kissed her hair, sighing with contentment.

Reluctantly he pulled himself free of her body, and gently put her down on the sandy bottom. She put her feet down and stood up, looking down at him still kneeling there. She touched the sore, sensitive area between her legs, the pain of his penetration starting to slowly ebb away as the cool water gave its comfort.

Bishop didn't say anything, and neither did she. He reached his hand out and touched her skin, finding her shoulder for balance, then stood. Kyrie didn't move, that latent memory was suddenly there, swimming back and forth urgently beneath a foggy surface, but try as she might she couldn't grasp it.

She stepped back and took Bishops hand.

"Come on, it's getting chilly out here. Let's get back to the fire and our blankets." Her words sounded dismissive and curt even to her, after what they had just shared.

They climbed from the river, found their clothing and got dressed silently, Kyrie helping Bishop with his many snaps and buckles.

"Do you feel anything at all for me?" he asked suddenly.

Kyrie didn't know what to say to him, the raw longing on his face tore at her heart, but something was stopping her from telling him what he wanted so badly to hear. She decided that it would only be fair to tell him the truth of her feelings rather then mask or hide them. Even if it wasn't what he wanted so much, it was still better then a deception.

"Bishop, I …the truth is I could …easily…fall in love with you."

"I think it's already too late for me," he whispered.

Kyrie put her arms around him and hoped he didn't notice the regretful tears that had slid down her face.

_It's_ _honestly too late for me too,_ she thought miserably. _But I can't tell you I love you with this feeling of incompleteness inside me._

"We have to find a town, Bishop. We can't stay here forever." said Kyrie softly. He turned his sightless amber eyes towards her, his expression saying it all. Kyrie knelt in front of him as he leaned on the fence and took his hand.

"You can do it. We've been doing a lot of exploring near the camp and you do fine. Look, Karnwyr is ready to go too."

The wolf was standing a few feet away, eager to be on the move.

Kyrie stood up and took a few steps. "Come on Bishop. You know we have to move on."

He took a few tentative steps. Karnwyr walked over and licked his hand encouragingly, then sat down behind him whining softly. Kyrie turned and held out her hand towards him.

"Take my hand, Bishop. Let me be your eyes."

He reached out a trusting hand slowly and took hers.


	12. Chapter 12

_This is an AU. I'm not a stickler for accuracy in the details of the Neverwinter universe such as gods etc. but I do try my best. This story does have explicit sexual content, 18+. If you are offended by sexual themes don't start reading! There is artwork for this story at my deviantart account under aeltari._

Their travelling days were filled with Kyrie teaching Bishop to use the wand, how to find the fire, the number of steps to the edge of the camp, and how to take care of himself. He was soon able to shave with minimal assistance.

Kyrie placed the bow in his hands one day and asked him to shoot it for her. Unsure of himself, he protested, then threw it down and walked away. She picked it up and walked to the edge of the camp. She had never drawn a bow before that she could remember, and it felt heavy and awkward. She had trouble nocking the arrow, and in the end it fell to the ground a few pathetic feet from where it started. She tried again and again, but had no idea how to make it shoot straight and true.

"Like this…" She felt Bishop's body close behind her, his arms running alongside hers. He put his hands over hers on the bow and helped her nock and draw.

His lips grazed the top of her head just once; it was hard for him to be near her and not wish to kiss or hold her close.

"Release it, and tell me where it goes" he instructed softly.

Kyrie did so, and watched the arrow sail towards the forest.

"It went almost to the edge of the forest, about 30 feet!"

"You can do better. Try again. Hold your fingers like this. You are strong, I'm impressed you can actually draw this bow."

Kyrie tried again, and the arrow flew into the forest and disappeared. She cheered. Bishop told her how to aim, and she practiced for some time, each arrow let loose came closer to the mark she set each time.

She lowered the bow, her arms and shoulders exhausted. His hands were on her arms, gently squeezing the tension out of them. He massaged down to her wrists and hands, then back up to her shoulders. He embraced her, still standing behind, one arm across her chest, the other across her abdomen, his lips on the curve of her neck.

She felt him pressing against her, his desire hard and evident. He turned her around, eyes closed, and pulled her into a tight embrace, his face in her hair.

"Bishop, I can't…"

"Shhh. Someone like you is bound to have a lover, many lovers maybe" his voice was soft and filled with longing. "I can accept that if you will just give me this time, just here and now, before you leave me."

"I don't intend to leave you here in the wilds Bishop, you and Karnwyr are coming with me to a town."

"And after?...lets not say its anything other then what it is. You will leave eventually…that's the truth."

_By the gods, Bishop,_ Kyrie's mind cried. _I want you, I need you, I love you…but I don't have a whole me to give you._

His hands grasped her hair, pulling her face to his, his lips crushing hers. Pulling back, his finger moved over her lips, tracing the shape. Keeping his sightless amber eyes open he closed the distance between them again and his tongue slipped out to take the path his finger had just traced. He licked at her upper lip, then the lower, eventually sliding his tongue between them. Kyrie's lips parted, her body on fire for him.

Bishop was breathing heavily, his hands moved down her body to her buttocks and squeezed them hard, his excited member pressing painfully against her.

"By the nine hells, Kyrie…I love you. I loved you then, I love you now!"

An icy hand grabbed and twisted her heart, and she shoved him backwards.

"What? What did you just say? I never told you my name!"

"I…I'm sorry, I didn't mean…I don't know… I just…" He stammered, his face a mask of shock. He reached out a hand for her.

_Why did I say that?_ his mind was reeling. He was assaulted by visions, the Knight Captain of his past, melding and morphing into the woman before him, the woman he had fallen in love with. Suddenly all the similarities between them hit him like a brick wall and he couldnt breathe. _No! It was not possible!_

"Bishop, what did you call me?" she almost shouted at him, and slapped his hand away.

"Kyrie! That was _her_ name! The woman I loved and betrayed _twice_ because I was a raving lunatic!"

The silence between them was so heavy even the wolf circled around them at a distance, whining softly. Bishop's hand remained outstretched and she looked at it, then looked back into his wide unseeing eyes.

"That's _my_ name, Bishop. Kyrie. Kyrie Barrington." She said it softly, confused, a flutter starting in her chest that became a vice grip that squeezed, making breathing difficult.

Bishop sank to his knees in the grass, his eyes still wide, his expression tortured.

_The same hair, the same eyes, the same name. Was it her? How was that even possible?_ She hadn't, _didn't,_ recognize him or give any inkling that she knew him despite what he had shared with her. Her reaction to him was genuine. If she _had_ known it was him, the Kyrie he had known would have taken out her sword, or whatever was handy at the time and run him through, with good reason. She had died, everyone said so! A terrible feeling of fear decended on his heart.

"K…Kyrie…your wrist. Your right arm on the inside. Is there a mark there? A birthmark?"

Trembling she turned over her arm. There it was as she knew it would be, a strangely shaped birthmark.

"Its scales isn't it. The scales of justice, the mark of Tyr."

He heard her sharp intake of breath as the strange mark suddenly became clear, and his heart fell with a crash to his feet. Something had robbed her of her memories. She didn't remember him, and it was now apparent that all this time she hadn't remembered Casavir either.

Suddenly he grabbed his head with a strangled cry and fell over sideways as a lancing, white hot pain shot through it.

He was hurled headlong into a forgotten memory.

He screamed.

"_Someone thought enough of you to pray for your immortal soul, Bishop!" A voice, loud and reverberating echoed in his skull. He was lying on a cold rocky ground in a pool of blood. His blood. His body was in a torn and twisted agony, and he couldn't move._

_He felt something lift him, and he screamed in pain. His broken, crushed limbs dangled as an invisible hand dragged him up from the ground. He saw other bodies crushed beneath pillars, heard shouts and screams, saw the ground tremble and shake and throw rocks and debris around. _

_He saw himself rising up, above the fray._

_The next thing he knew he was standing free of pain in a bright windowless room, in front of a mirror whose surface was rippling water._

_"This was to be your fate!" the voice thundered._

_He suddenly saw horrifying images of broken, twisted bodies entwined on a wall. He heard the gut wrenching screams, saw hands tearing and clawing, writhing in indescribable agony. Voices begged for mercy, for compassion, for release. _

_He clapped his hands over his ears as the wailing grew louder and louder._

_"Stop! Please!"_

_The room became brighter and brighter and the terrifying vision faded, the sounds faded away. A human sized glowing ball of light appeared behind him in the mirror and he turned around and stared at it. A figure was moving in the bright light._

"_Someone believed in your redemption!" The figure's voice boomed at him. "You have been an arrogant, faithless fool who has looked upon all goodness in the world with disdain, even hers. You betrayed her unto your own death, and still she begged me for your life!"_

_Bishop stared into the light, trying to see the figure. He didn't know what to say, he didn't know where he was, or what was happening. All he remembered was running through the Vale and the rocks starting to come down. Had he died? Was this the nine hells? What was that wall? Was it the Wall of the Faithless? But that was just a story made to frighten children and errant parishioners, wasn't it?_

_Bishop started off scared._

_Bishop grew steadily more terrified._

"_Ignorant human! You stand before the mighty Tyr and you dare to look upon me with those faithless eyes! On your knees dog!"_

_Bishop felt his legs give way and he collapsed to the smooth white marble floor._

"_It was the love in the heart of a favored soul that has spared you the fate shown to you. The love in her heart, that of my kin! For all you did to her, she yet forgave you! Miserable worm!" Tyr's enraged voice tore through his skull and he trembled in absolute terror._

"_You are returned now to the land of the living, but it is my judgement that you do not deserve to see the world you held in so much contempt, and will henceforth walk in the darkness you cloaked yourself with in life."_

_A bright flash erupted from the figure, and Bishop's world was plunged into complete darkness. _

_He felt himself suddenly falling through space, faster and faster. He was too terrified to scream as he flailed helplessly in the empty air. _

_He landed hard, pain shot through his leg and shoulder and he cried out._

"_As deserving as you are of this fate I have decreed, it would be unjust for you to be punished without a chance of redemption," echoed the god's voice in his head._

_"Only the love of the one you betrayed can heal your eyes and save your soul. She must be willing to see you as you are, and love you regardless."_

"_But she's dead!" Bishop screamed. "Kyrie is dead!"_

_The god's voice emanated from all around him, a deep, angry and hollow sound._

"_Then you have sealed your fate."_

Kyrie stared in horror as Bishop writhed on the ground screaming in agony. The sound chilled her to the bone and she also sank into the grass. She felt that sharp pain in her abdomen, and a wave of nausea hit her.

She collapsed, curled up in a ball, images assaulting her mind, voices overlapping and echoing.

"_Don't do this Bishop"_

"_I can't help it…getting tied down…even to a feeling for someone, just isn't my style. I'm not going to be tied to anyone or anything again. That's the reason it's going to end like this!"_

_The cavernous room was cold, Casavir moved closer to her, his hand slipping into hers. She saw the anger in his steely blue eyes, this betrayal that might cost some, or all of them their lives. _

_She turned her head slightly and saw Sand, whose arm slipped through hers in comfort._

"_That's another thing, I don't like the way you seem to cast your lot in with the paladin every chance you get."_

_Kyrie shook her head at him in disbelief. She couldn't believe that she had actually had feelings for him at any point. She had thought, mistakenly it seemed, that there was good in him, that if he were shown kindness and compassion he would come around. But he hadn't. He had remained cold and distant, aggressive and insulting. He had shown his disdain and disrespect for Casavir from the moment they met, and things only got worse as time went on. Now this. She looked at the skull headed wizard behind Bishop, and her stomach sank. _

_He was willing to see them all die just to satisfy his need for vengeance. _

_Again._

Kyrie moaned into the earth, each sharp inhale taking in bits of dirt and grass. She wanted to break away from the memories, to shut them away, to stop them, to end the terrible pain in her heart.

_Casavir put his arm around her shoulders and held her close._

"_All acts carry a price, Bishop. And this betrayal will cost you much."_

"_Maybe, but standing on the losing side's going to cost you your life."_

"_Even you know there are fates worse then death, Bishop." Casavir's voice was hard and cold._

_Kyrie trembled and did her best to hide it from the others, but there was no fooling Casavir and Sand who stood so close to her. _

_She looked searchingly at Bishop, and suddenly his amber eyes betrayed his words. His eyes locked with hers, and in that moment she understood._

"_I would have died for you, I loved you so much." She heard his mind say to hers. _

_She was in his head, feeling, hearing everything he wanted to say to her but was never able to. Feelings she had no way of knowing at the time._

"_Kyrie, if you had only run away with me and left all this behind, I would have given my life to protect you, to love you. Just me and you, free, forever. All I wanted was love, your love."_

_Tears poured from her eyes as she stared at him, knowing how deeply wounded he had been. She saw flashes and snippets of a childhood of pain and rejection. She saw a beautiful, sensitive young man grow into a cruel tyrant because the world wouldn't accept him. She saw atrocities committed in pain and frustration and a deep desire to belong. She felt his yearning to be part of something, someone. _

_In his thoughtless desperation, he had doomed himself. _

_Kyrie knew then he would die, and with that death he would be sent to the nine hells or worse, the Wall of the Faithless._

"_Oh Bishop," her eyes echoed her thoughts. "I still believe there is goodness inside you. May Tyr show compassion for your soul and show you the mercy you could never show to others. That would be true justice."_

_She turned away from Bishop and buried her head in Casavir's chest._

_Casavir…_

Kyrie felt a hand touch her shoulder, and trembling she looked up. Bishop had crawled over and was sobbing, tears coursing from his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Kyrie, I'm sorry for everything you lost, because of me. I am punished by Tyr himself for the injustices I have made others to suffer. I love you so much, it's killing me. I would rather go to the Wall and face oblivion then live another day in this purgatory. I won't even ask for your forgiveness because I know that you might give it, and I don't deserve it."

Kyrie couldn't move her eyes from his. She remembered with immense pain everything he had done to her then, to those friends she couldn't recall, to Sand, to Casavir. She remembered Bishop's cruelty towards them all, his overwhelming need for control, his horror of being bound to anyone or anything. She remembered with horror that he had brought a great evil down upon them, but the details remained out of her grasp. He had wanted them all dead!

She remembered Torio and her little surrogate family, Sand's heartfelt confessions. With a cry of pain she remembered her beloved Casavir, the gentle blue eyed paladin who was her whole world.

She remembered Sand telling her who she had been, where her home was.

She remembered the night she and Bishop had spent at the river, and guilt washed over her in a wave.

"Kyrie…" Bishop was trying to pull her towards him. At his touch, rage suddenly filled her.

"NO!" she screamed. "No!" She forced herself to sit up, jerking her arms out of his grasp.

She shoved him hard and he fell backwards. Glaring at him she screamed.

"You killed my Cassi! I loved him with all my heart and soul, and YOU killed him for nothing more then to satisfy your twisted, depraved notions of vengeance!"

She stood up and advanced on him while he stared sightlessly up at her in fear.

"I could have loved _you _back then! I _would_ have loved you if you had given me any sign that you were a human being, and not some heartless creature the nine hells spat out!"

She slapped him, hard, leaving an angry red mark on his cheek. The sight of it infuriated her even more.

"I came here, lost and alone and devoid of memory and tried to help you and what did you do? You shoved me around, beat me with a stick and tried to kick and hit me every chance you got! All you did was hurt me, over and over again, just like before! You use the word love while you slash and stab and destroy everything good!"

In a furious rage she slapped him again as tears ran down his cheeks.

"Did you watch him die Bishop? Did you watch the life I held dearer then my own slip away? Were you finally happy then? Was your vengeance finally sated? Was it?" She kicked him, several times, viciously.

Bishop was crying openly, shaking his head. "I died, Kyrie!" he cried. "I died! I didn't see anyone or anything I knew, I …I died. I saw…I saw Tyr!"

"What? You don't believe in anyone or anything least of all a god! Why would the god of justice bother to even look at you!"

"Because of YOU!" he yelled back. "Because you asked him to spare me! You are Aasimar, kin of Tyr! Just as it says on the mark on your arm!"

Kyrie's fury was wildfire. She stood over him breathing as though she had run a mile. "These days I spent with you. You took my heart, and you took my body and it was all a big deception wasn't it? To what end? What evil lies in your heart now, what evil will you defile me with this time around?"

"Evil? I love you! Yeah I was a jackass at first! I was scared, I was angry, but you helped me through that! I asked you to stay with me, here in the wilds, AGAIN! You didn't even remember who you were, you sure didn't remember Casavir! As for taking your body, words weren't affecting you! I wanted to _show _you how I felt! You gave yourself to me willingly because like it or not _Kyrie_, you love me too! You fell in love with me this time for who I am and not who I used to be! You said you forgave me all those things I told you I did!"

She moved as if to strike him, to slap the words from his mouth, but she stopped. As long as she nursed the anger, she would not have to accommodate the truth of his words, not have to consider what she had done, willingly.

"The hatred I have for you now is indescribable, Bishop. You are here alive, when so many who have proven themselves worthy to live are…" she couldn't finish the sentence as her tears started anew.

"I'm _done_ with you!"

Kyrie stalked off down the field, hearing Karnwyr barking. She didn't care where she went, as long as it was far away from him.

Behind her, Bishop pulled his knees up to his chest and heard only the echoing memory of the god's words.

_She must be willing to see you as you are and love you regardless. Your fate is sealed._

_----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

Kyrie sat beneath a tree beside the river for an entire day. She recounted the day she first met Bishop, so long ago. It had been …where? In a tavern, in a city. He had made a scathing, cruel comment towards her and all she remembered was seeing his amber eyes, which belied his harsh words. Eyes that always held so much promise, no matter what walls he built around them. She remembered walking with him, talking with him, getting to know him. So many times she felt he was about to share how he felt with her, then he would withdraw into himself again.

_The cloak was askew, bits of dried leaves and twigs clinging to it and to his hair. Kyrie reached up and brushed away the debris, then straightened his cloak with a smile._

_Bishop tilted his head enquiringly at her, and when her hand brushed his cheek he closed his eyes for a moment and leaned into her touch. He opened his mouth to say something and Kyrie's large sunset eyes looked into his amber ones in anticipation. Something flickered there and he stepped back suddenly._

_"I'm a big boy now. I don't need a mother, or anyone else to nag me about how I look." He shrugged the cloak back into its askew state and pushed rudely past her._

_Kyrie had felt the rejection deeply that time. She honestly thought he enjoyed the attention she gave him. She watched him stalk out of the tavern, sadness twisting in her gut._

She remembered how awkward and unsure of himself he was, and looking back she saw how he cloaked that feeling of inadequacy with a wall of harshness. When Casavir had decided to join them, Bishop had gotten more rude and unkind then she had yet seen him. He withdrew from her completely…why was he even surprised she began to fall for the handsome stranger? Every attempt she had made to reach out to him was slapped aside, yet she remembered how the hurt would flash in his eyes when Casavir brought her a gift, how he mocked the paladin's gentle words and chivalrous nature.

Everything about Casavir had rankled the ranger, because in Casavir he saw everything he never was and never would be. Kyrie remembered how he had disappeared once she and Casavir had made their relationship public, showing up only when he felt the need to torment the other man.

_Oh Bishop_, she thought regretfully, _you didn't need to be Casavir, you needed to be you and that would have been enough for me_. _The seeds were there, you just didn't nurture them and allow them to grow._

Kyrie got up and walked in the shallow river for some time. The smooth rocks beneath her feet, the feel of the water flowing around her legs, the gentle babbling of the river helped calm her raging heart.

Her mind wandered towards her time with Bishop in the wilds, how close they had gotten, how he had shared with her some hard truths…and she had forgiven him for them. Had that truly changed because the story was suddenly hers and not some unknown persons? Was she only capable of forgiving someone if it didn't personally affect her?

_You told him you could fall in love with him_, said the voice of her mind.

Because I didn't remember my Casavir.

_That doesn't change the way you feel about Bishop_.

That is true.

_You liked his touch, his kiss, and you liked feeling him inside you_.

Very much.

_Didn't you tell Torio that everyone is worthy of redemption if they asked for it?_

Yes.

_You forgave her_.

Yes.

_Didn't Bishop agree to his wrongdoings?_

Yes.

_Doesn't he deserve forgiveness too?_

He killed Casavir.

_Are you sure of that?_

No.

_Bishop betrayed you back then, why?_

Because he loved me and he was hurting.

_That means he can love_. _Hasn't he shown you that now?_

Yes.

_He was at your side for a long time, back then. Always there for you, backing you up. He made mistakes, bad choices, because he couldn't handle love. He couldn't handle the one thing in his life he had never had, yet wanted more then anything else._

Yes.

_Doesn't he deserve forgiveness too?_

No. He took advantage of me.

_He couldn't take advantage of you because he didn't know who you were. And had he known, he believes Casavir is dead._

He made me break my promise to Casavir!

_You didn't stop him. He didn't make you do anything your heart didn't want to do._

I didn't remember my Cassi!

_If you didn't have feelings for Bishop you would have stopped him._

Yes

_Doesn't Bishop deserve forgiveness?_

Yes

_Why?_

Because I love _him_, too.

She sighed, her heart heavy, but at the same time strangely lighter. She needed to move on, to find a town and get back together with Sand and Torio, _if they hadn't killed each other by now, _she thought ruefully. She _had_ to find Casavir. There was no doubt in her mind that he wasn't dead. The latent memory that was Cassi who had been begging her not to forget him while Bishop's lips were on hers, while he was inside her…was very much alive, somewhere. She didn't care if Sand or Torio didn't believe her, she knew the man she loved was not gone. It was time to find him, but first there was something she needed to do.

Bishop was curled up in his blanket asleep beside the fire, Karnwyr beside him. He had managed to make it back to camp, most likely with the wolf's help. The fire was lit, the wand nearby. The firelight played on his face, illuminating the streaks of tears still on his cheeks. Kyrie crept in and knelt beside him. Karnwyr whined softly, his tail moving slowly from side to side but he made no motion to get up. She stroked his hair for a moment, sure she would never see him again.

"I'm sorry, Bishop." She whispered. "I'm sorry things have to be this way. I…_I love you_, but I can't be with you."

She laid her hands over his eyes. A warmth that started in her head spread and flowed downwards to her hands, into his eyes. She wasn't sure it would even work, if he was being punished by the gods, they wouldn't allow her healing to take effect. But she had to try, for him. Watching him sleep for a few moments, Kyrie wished him well.

"Karnwyr, you take care of him ok? You might have to be his eyes now." The wolf's tail moved, and his eyes sparkled.

Kyrie stood up and silently moved from the camp.

She hadn't gone far when a strange green, glowing orb appeared. The orb! She suddenly remembered how it had wakened her in the early morning at Torio's house, robbing her of her vision and forcing her to follow it, only to vanish and take her memories with it. What manner of sorcery was this?

"What are you? Why are you following me around?"

In response there was a bright flash of light and Kyrie felt herself falling.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bishop pulled the blankets up over his head to keep the light out. Barely conscious he grunted and rolled over, burying his face in Karnwyr's thick grey fur.

So bright, how was anyone to sleep …his heart caught in his throat.

_Light!_

He opened his eyes and lifted his head, being met with a painful shocking glare. Reflexively he shut his eyes again, clapping a hand over them. He struggled to a sitting position and peered through his hand. Everything around him was as bright as the sun, it hurt to see it.

_See! _

Slowly he lowered his hand, eyes squinting. He looked down and saw his hands, Karnwyr's paw, and the dirt of the earth. He turned his hands over and over, staring at them, then his now wide eyes took in the entire camp, his lupine friend, the firepit…everything. There was his bow and quiver, the wand, the dented metal cup…Kyrie's empty blanket.

_Kyrie_.

He pulled her blanket over to him and wrapped his arms around it, trying to capture her scent, a few of her stray hairs woven into it.

_Kyrie_.

She had done this. She had given him his sight, and his life back. Standing, he looked off into the distance around the camp, hoping that maybe he would see her, but knowing in his heart that she was gone.

"Kyrie!" he shouted into the wind. "I love you!"

Karnwyr spun and woofed softly, standing on his hind legs and giving Bishop's face a quick lick. Bishop threw his arms around the wolf and hugged him, then quickly gathered up the camp.

"We got to find her, boy. She needs us. Might not know it but she does. How far do you think that little paladin got to over night? Let's go!"

His steps were light as he and the wolf set off across the field at a jog.

It was the first time in his life that Bishop had felt true, unbridled joy.


	13. Chapter 13

_This is an AU. I'm not a stickler for accuracy in the details of the Neverwinter universe such as gods etc. but I do try my best. This story does have explicit sexual content, 18+. If you are offended by sexual themes don't start reading! There is artwork for this story at my deviantart account under aeltari._

Brother Ilisharan made his devotions to Tyr, then rose up from his knees and blew out the candles. The incense remained burning, and the braziers remained lit.

A soft voice behind him spoke.

"Brother, you have been so troubled. I may not be a god, but I will gladly listen to you if you wish to share."

Melosia's young face was kindly, and she sat down in a chair and waited for Brother Ilisharan to respond. The cleric sighed heavily and turned to her with a small smile.

"I hope my inner conflicts have not caused me to neglect my duties here, Melosia. Your village has many needs and I must see them all met to the best of my ability."

"Brother, your aid has been invaluable. No one has said anything and no one would. We are most grateful to have anyone at all come to our assistance. We are so far removed from the cities that we are often overlooked by travelling clerics. The fact you have come at all, and stayed so long is a blessing to us we thank Tyr for every day."

Ilisharan smiled gratefully and sat down opposite Melosia.

"It has always been a privilege to do Tyr's work but there was a day not long ago when I wondered if I was truly doing Tyr's work the way he meant me to."

"What do you mean Brother?"

"I was not always a travelling cleric, Melosia. I was part of a brotherhood outside the city of Neverwinter on the Sword Coast. Since I had been a child I had wanted to be part of that temple, and when my schooling was completed and they asked for me, I was honored beyond words. I was the youngest cleric ever recruited by them."

Melosia nodded quietly, listening.

"Life was wonderful at the Temple of Tyr. I was very happy there. Tyr accepted my devotions and gave me many blessings. I had thought my entire life would be lived out there, but…something happened I am not proud of. I'm not sure I should even speak of it anymore…but it haunts me terribly." He looked miserably at her, his shoulders slumped under an invisible weight. Melosia leaned over and touched his arm gently.

"Brother, no man is meant to walk alone. Sometimes we all need someone to give us comfort. Tyr is a good god, but there is no substitute for a living, breathing entity sometimes. Please unburden your heart."

Ilisharan gave her a small grateful smile.

"A great war came, a war which threatened to put many lives in eternal torment and darkness. Out of this horrible time came a young woman from a harsh backwoods swamp, who was destined to become the savior of us all. So young, by Tyr, barely out of childhood. I saw her once as she and her companions came through my town. I had thought this proffered hero would be a large, strong warrior, but there she was, long black hair flowing over such a small fragile frame." Ilisharan's eyes floated up over Melosia's head, remembering, finally letting it pour from his lips.

_"Brother Ilisharan! The Knight Captain of Crossroad Keep seeks to use the temple for her devotions!" an excited young cleric, not yet out of training, ran up to him as he put away his books in the library. Unsure what the youngster was talking about, Ilisharan eyed him quizzically._

_"Many people come to make their devotions to Tyr, Brionus, it is hardly a matter to become so excited about."_

_"Yes but Brother, this is the Hero of Neverwinter! The one they say will save us all!"_

_Ilisharan stopped what he was doing and wiped some errant dust from his robes. He had heard the stories of the Knight Captain, risen through the ranks at lightning speed from her common upbringing in the Mere of Dead Men. She had created some favor with Lord Nasher Alagondar and the Neverwinter Nine. A great warrior to be sure._

_"That is an honor indeed, we must show her to the inner sanctum then, Brionus."_

_"She asked to speak with you. Well she asked to speak to Brother Yllirum but he has gone off to the city, that makes you in charge!"_

_Brother Ilisharan nodded. "I will meet her in the temple proper. Brionus I don't need to remind you to show proper respect to this great warrior."_

_He waited for her at the front of the temple. Brother Ilisharan didn't know what to expect from this warrior of legend. Bards and gypsies had been singing and telling her tale for several months now, and her exploits and her immense heart were everyone's favorite entertainment. Ilisharan knew that the entertainers often exaggerated their subjects, so he truly did not know what to expect. _

_Despite that, he was most certainly not expecting what he saw._

_The Knight Captain walked in with a few companions in tow. She wore a suit of armor in a deep crimson, covered in places with dragon scale. Jet black hair hung loosely around her face and down her shoulders. She was so small, so lithe, and with a shock Ilisharan realized she was barely out of her childhood. _

_Her hand was entwined tightly with that of one of her companions. The man stood a head taller then her, a steely gaze looked out of deep sockets. His hair was cut short, wavy and as black as the Knight Captain's. Gloriously polished black and red armor gave him a strong, imposing air. On his chest was stamped a symbol marking him as a paladin of Tyr. _

_On her other side walked a smaller elven male, keeping just as close to her as the paladin, dark hair hanging down his shoulders. Brother Ilisharan marked him as a wizard, not only by his robes but by the way he analytically took in all the artifacts on the walls. _

_Behind them was a dwarf, who wore the Robes of the Shining Hand, the sign of a monk. _

_The Knight Captain reached him and bowed immediately, all her companions except the wizard doing the same. When she looked up at him he was struck by her eyes. They were a bright reddish orange and yellow with paler golden flecks. He had most certainly not expected one of Aasimar heritage, least of all this woman-child in a state of grace. _

_The bards he had heard had most definitely never seen her. Such a detail would never go unwritten if they had._

_"Brother Ilisharan, thank you for allowing us to use your temple for our devotions." Her voice was soft, but there was a strength, a power beneath the sound. _

_"My name is Kyrie Barrington, I am the Knight Captain of Crossroad Keep." _

_She then indicated her friends each in turn._

_"This is Sir Casavir de Chantraine, Althraion of House Nhaereseer, and Khelgar Ironfist. My companions and I are on our way to Neverwinter but our obligations afford us so little privacy there and we wanted to speak to Tyr alone. Well three of us at least…" _

_Her hands touched on the paladin and the dwarf._

_The paladin nodded looking down at her, and Brother Ilisharan saw the deep affection in his eyes. _

_"My…Captain and I are both paladins of Tyr, and the dwarf is studying the ways of the monastery in Neverwinter. We are honored and grateful to you." He bowed again._

_A paladin of Tyr! She was certainly full of surprises. He was pleased to see Tyr receive such an illustrious following._

_"You are most welcome my friends. I will see to it that you are given all the time and privacy you need. Will you stay and dine with us? You must be tired and hungry after your travels."_

_The dwarf spoke up, his loud voice resounding in the quiet chapel. _

_"Och good Brother, ye know the right words to say to this dwarf! Bein' a monk now gets me appetite workin'. Some food and good ale would be most welcome!" He laughed heartily and smiled up at the Knight Captain._

_"Yes, well I could use some time to get my…mind…back in order." Said the elf in a melodic voice._

_"My friends have spoken!" said the young lady with a bell like laugh. "We are doubly honored by your invitation, good Brother. There is another friend outside, watching our weapons. She does not…like…temples much as she is a Tiefling…"_

_An unspoken question in her eyes, the Lady Knight gazed openly at Ilisharan, those incredible eyes belying her age. He was sure the things those eyes had seen in her short life was more then most would in a lifetime. _

_He nodded to her respectfully._

_"Good Lady, all are welcome in the home of Tyr."_

_She smiled and bowed again. _

_The wizard stepped forward. "Might I trouble you to have a look at some of your historical tomes?"_

_Brother Ilisharan nodded. "I shall take you to the library myself, good wizard. Right this way." _

_He bowed to the three companions, then led the wizard to the library._

_Some hours later, Brother Ilisharan wandered through the dark halls at the back of the temple. Some of his guests were now seated at the table for the evening meal, but the paladins had not yet appeared. The wizard and he had had a wonderful conversation about some of the historical tomes. The elf was a follower of Mystra, and shared with Ilisharan some interesting points about that deity. _

_He heard voices float down the corridor, and walking past one of the annex rooms he saw the paladins. Sir Casavir held the Lady Knight in an embrace. She was looking up into his face._

_"Cassi, I'm so scared. Everyone treats me like some sort of hero and I'm not. Look at me, I'm just a girl from West Harbor. Why does everyone follow me?"_

_"My lady, others follow you because you are good, and strong, and you offer them hope. Fate has decreed that this is the path you must take."_

_Ilisharan saw her brush her eyes with her hand._

_"I'm not ready for this. This battle, so much riding on it, all these lives depending on me, on all of us. I need more time! Time to learn more, time to get ready…time…with you. Fate needs to wait!" a sob escaped her lips and the Knight wiped her cheek gently._

_"My Lady Kyrie, my love…fate rarely calls us at a moment of our choosing. We have made our devotions to Tyr. He will see that what is done is done for right. I cherish the time we have together. Every moment I spend with you is a blessing I am ever grateful for. I would rather have lived a short time knowing your love then an entire lifetime without it. Do you believe my words?"_

_She nodded and lay her head on his chest. "I believe you, Cassi. I feel the same. I love you so much it hurts. I'm terrified that I will lose you. How will I live without you?"_

_"Shh, my love. You must not think of such things. If Tyr calls me to die in battle, I will be taken to dwell with him in the Outer Planes on Mount Celestia. Do not forget, the Prime is not all there is, there is so much more, beloved."_

_"Yes, but I don't care about that!" Her voice rose with emotion. "I want you here, with me, always at my side!"_

_Brother Ilisharan closed his eyes, feeling tears behind his lids. No one so young should bear a burden so great on their shoulders. She should be wed to the man she loves and spend her days planning a family not a battle of life and death. These battles of good versus evil were best left to the gods to fight, yet so often the biggest sacrifices were made by ones such as the Lady Knight. Those who gave up all they love, even their own lives so that others might live free. _

_Tyr protect this child, he prayed silently._

_Sir Casavir held her to him, stroking her ebony hair gently. "My lady, as long as I draw breath I will be at your side. If we are separated I will find you. If Tyr calls me home I will wait for you. My love for you is not subject to this body, this place. It is forever. There will never be anyone else in my heart, Lady Kyrie."_

_The Lady Knight drew back, and taking his hands looked up at him. "As long as I draw breath I will be at your side. If we are separated I will find you. If Tyr calls me home I will wait for you. My love for you is not subject to this body, this place. It is forever. I love you, Sir Casavir."_

_Brother Ilisharan stepped from the shadow of the hallway and removed the stole he wore from around his neck. As the paladins watched him in puzzlement, he soundlessly draped it across and around their joined hands. He raised his arms to the symbol of Tyr on the wall._

_"Good Tyr, god of all that is just, right and good. As their hands are bound, so are their hearts, their souls and their devotion. To this world, to you, to one another. Lay your blessing upon this union and keep Sir Casavir de Chantraine, and Lady Kyrie Barrington protected from evil and strengthened by your will."_

_He looked with a smile on their surprised faces, which gradually turned to joy when they understood what he was doing for them._

_"Sir Casavir, do you love this lady?"_

_"With all that I am." He responded softly._

_"Lady Kyrie, do you love this man?"_

_"With all my heart and soul." Her voice trembled._

_"Then you are bound now in this life, and the next, as Tyr is your witness."_

_He took his stole and draped it about his neck again. Sir Casavir gathered the lady to him, and his lips brushed hers in a gentle kiss._

_"Lady de Chantraine." He whispered to her. _

_The Lady Knight's eyes were brimming with tears, and Brother Ilisharan slipped silently from the room. He paused at the doorway._

_"What has come to pass will not leave my lips, until you leave this plane. It is yours to share or keep, as you see fit."_

Melosia was crying, wiping her eyes occasionally, riveted to Ilisharan's story. She, like so many others had heard bits and pieces of the stories of the heroes of the War of Shadows, but never in great detail… to hear it this way, told firsthand was an experience like no other.

"It was such a tragedy Melosia," Ilisharan said sadly. "Not long after that day the paladins and their friends went to battle against that great evil. They defeated it, but the fortress they were in collapsed. Some of them died." He stopped and swallowed.

Melosia touched his arm, her eyes wide.

"The paladins? The lady and her knight? Please Brother tell me they survived."

"I know the dwarf and the wizard survived. The Lady Captain…she was lost. The Knight…oh Melosia, that is the subject of my great pain."

"Tell me Brother! What happened!"

"My superiors summoned me to the fortress, to help look for them. I was told the order came directly from Lord Nasher, and I was one of several clerics assigned to the search groups. On the third day, we found him. Oh gods he was so mortally wounded and I believed him to be moments from death, but he yet drew breath and immediately I knelt by his side. I recognized him as Sir Casavir and put everything I had into stabilizing him enough to move him to the Temple. His first words sounded like…like _Kira_…I whispered to him that I knew him and I would take care of him. He wouldn't stop saying her name. The only other words he spoke were to the effect of the terrible agony he was in. I sent a messenger ahead to the temple to have the Brothers ready for a major healing ritual."

Brother Ilisharan sighed deeply. His troubled eyes looked into Melosia's and she could see the awful torment there.

"Something prevented me from telling Brother Ylirum, my superior, that I knew the man. I had 4 of the best clerics, as well as myself, assigned around the clock to provide healing to Sir Casavir. He was so close to death, Melosia, I had the rites of passing prepared…just in case. One evening I was called to Brother Ylirum's study. There were 2 men there, I didn't like the look of them. I was told that Sir Casavir was wanted in Luskan for a crime of murder. I proceeded to explain to them all that the man had just saved us all from the King of Shadows, he was a Hero of Neverwinter! They didn't care. They said they would be taking him back to Luskan to stand trial. I told them that he was nowhere near able to travel and was near death. I was told then that we had to have him able and ready in 4 days when they would return for him. Brother Ylirum sent me out of the room when I outright refused."

Melosia gasped. "Oh no! What did you do?"

"I went to him, to Brother Ylirum and told him that Sir Casavir was protected by Neverwinter and as such only Lord Nasher could order him extradited to Luskan which I knew he wouldn't do. Ylirum denied it. He said that because the temple was outside Neverwinter lands, and had been raised and supported by private funding it was an entity unto its own. Meaning that _he_ had absolute control over what happened within its walls. I had _never_ imagined I would hear such a thing. I was livid with him, but he was adamant that we were not able to interfere in matters of law and must remain neutral regardless of the situation. I reminded him we were clerics of Tyr, the just, the right, and that the man himself was a paladin of Tyr! But…Ylirum refused to listen and reminded me again to have Sir Casavir ready."

Ilisharan stood up and walked to the altar. "Melosia…I am so ashamed. My thoughts became so dark, so unworthy of the goodly Tyr. I…I considered discontinuing the healing, letting the paladin die. I just couldn't stomach the idea of him being locked in a Luskan prison. Luskans are…they are vile, cruel and evil. But it was not right! It wasn't the right thing to do!" his voice rose and fell with emotion.

"Instead I made the clerics work together, in twos to increase his healing. I wanted him restored completely, to 100%, to give him a fighting chance. He asked for me one night. I knew what he would ask of me. I dreaded that moment….oh by Tyr's eyes I dreaded and hated that moment!"

Melosia didn't see the cleric's gentle face as the eyes filled up with tears.

"Goodly Casavir, he thanked me, thanked us all for what we had done! Then the dreaded question: he asked me about her, his beloved Lady. His _eyes_…he read my answer before I spoke a word…his _eyes_…gods I wish I could forget how he looked when I told him his Lady Knight had been lost. He looked at me and said he knew the Luskans wanted to take him away. Brother Ylirum had told him."

Melosia rose and put an arm around the cleric's shoulders when she heard a sob escape his lips.

"He asked me, since I had known that she was lost, why I did not just let him die. I had to tell him because it would not have been right. I then saw that pious, devoted man's spirit die. I told him I would spirit him away, help him hide, leave the temple, the area. I reminded him what he had told the Lady the day they were wed. That there was more then just the Prime. I tried everything, said everything I knew of to say, but he just lay there and refused to speak with me any further."

Ilisharan folded his hands and prayed. He was quiet for a long while. Melosia sat back down and remained silent.

When the Brother turned back to her, he had regained his composure.

"I should have fought much harder, gotten some help in the other Brothers to get Casavir out of the temple. As it was, the Luskans came for him before 4 days. Obviously there was a spy in the temple, and that in and of itself sickened me. Ylirum acted as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened, that a great Hero of Neverwinter had never been within our walls, never been given up to be led like a lamb to the slaughter. He ordered us all to take a vow of silence on the events of that week. I refused. When Casavir was led out in chains, like a common criminal, he said only one thing to me. 'Pray for her, Brother. Pray that her soul has found its place in Tyr's hallowed city.'"

He sat back down.

"I told Ylirum that the temple was no longer a sacred place of Tyr interested in doing his will, doing what was right and just, but a tyranny concerned with political ambitions who would allow evil to prevail over a Hero of Neverwinter and I would have no part of it. He argued with me but I had no interest in him or that dirty temple. I packed up what little I had and left that night. I heard that several of my Brothers did the same. I have kept up with the affairs in Luskan, Melosia. Casavir was tried and convicted of murder and taken to the _rakhan_ the worst part of their prisons. I cannot bear to imagine what they have done to him there. I am aware that he still lives, kept alive by a cleric, can you imagine? I…I have tried to find the wizard and the dwarf but they did not return to the Keep nor to Neverwinter."

Melosia saw the spark in his eyes, the intent. "Brother…" she said slowly and carefully. "what exactly are you saying here?"

"I am going to go and get him out. I'm going back to the Sword Coast, to Luskan, and getting Sir Casavir out."

She stared at him, mouth open, eyes wide. "Brother! You are a cleric! Have you even had any combat training? You said these Luskans are cruel and dangerous. How will you manage to do this? I know you are hurt over what happened but to propose…"

"Melosia! I saw them wed. I was a part of their lives for a fraction of a memory. In that time I saw a great and unwavering love. Each was willing to die for the other, and she died for him, for me, for you, for all of us! I should never have let them take him, and in respect for that great Lady I believe it is my duty to protect the man she loved. I faltered and was weak once. I will not be weak again. Tyr help me, I _will_ get him out or die trying!"

Melosia was silent for many moments. Then she took a deep breath.

"How can I help you, Brother?"


	14. Chapter 14

_This is an AU. I'm not a stickler for accuracy in the details of the Neverwinter universe such as gods etc. but I do try my best. This story does have explicit sexual content, 18+. If you are offended by sexual themes don't start reading! There is artwork for this story at my deviantart account under aeltari._

Torio propped the body up beside the watering trough, and dusted the hay off her dress. The dirty little village they had come across was infested with drunk Luskans, most of them mercenaries looking for work. It wasnt hard to pick one out and charm him into giving up any information he might have.

"Ugh, he was the vilest of them all. Didn't even take much to get him to come out here with me. One little dance and I barely touched him and he started singing like a canary."

She crossed her arms and looked at the disheveled man laying at an odd angle against the horse's water holder.

Sand came up behind her and put an arm around her shoulders. Turning her around, he placed a tender kiss on her lips.

"You know, Torio dear, you don't have to do this. We can find another way of getting the information. I must admit it truly does disturb me seeing you engaged this way with another man."

His blue eyes sparkled mischievously.

"Although dear girl, I do enjoy watching you dance, its quite...thought provoking."

Torio smiled, and did a little eeling dance around him. "I would dance for you anytime you wish, beloved."

Her mind returned to the task at hand and her face took on a grave expression. She wrinkled her nose up at the unconscious Luskan.

"As for this ... mess, I would do anything to help Kyrie. This is the easiest and fastest way to get anything useful. These Luskans are so weak minded, it's a wonder any of them even make it to the Brotherhood."

"Fools like this one don't make it anywhere. Chances are he will be found dead along a highway some day, charred by a wizard that he angered."

Sand looked wryly at the man, and Torio was sure that the comment was a story in and of itself.

Taking Torio's hand Sand led her through the barn, outside and into an alley.

Seeing a group of Luskan soldiers approaching he pushed her against the wall and crushed his lips to hers. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him back as the dishevelled looking group walked past them.

Sand kept his lips close to hers as he spoke.

"As I said, my dear, watching you dance gave me all sorts of ideas not related to information gathering and espionage activities. But I digress. Let's just keep this very quiet, make it look good in case more of those Luskan dogs take to walking out here. What did you learn from that fool?"

Torio kissed him, and keeping her hands entwined in his hair and one leg wrapped around him whispered. "Its worse then I thought, Sand. The Neverwinter prisoner is being kept in the _raknah_."

"By the gods!" whispered Sand. "This is what the other moron told me. They have a cleric on him to stop him from dying under torture."

"Exactly what I was told. There is a change of guard on the _raknah_ every 9 hours. That much hasn't changed since I was there. Now, there is a list of all the potential guards for each shift. They all have to show up to the guard room one hour before they start. When they get there only a select few are chosen for duty on the _raknah_, the others are given assignments in other parts of the city."

Sand kissed her neck as another group walked by. "Getting in there isn't the difficult part Torio. We can devise all sorts of ingenious ways of getting ourselves in, but getting out with Casavir is going to be the problem."

"I can't help but feel we need to march in there with an army. Can't we get the Neverwinter Nine, or whatever the royal guard was called? There must be someone who can help us with this."

Sand shook his head. "Come on Torio, even you can see that marching in there armed to the teeth isn't the way to carry out a rescue operation. Sure we will succeed, but Luskan will leave no stone unturned until they wreak vengeance on whoever does it. It will also most likely turn into a political situation, which is precisely what we want to avoid. I'm more of the opinion that I want it to look like a murder. If Luskan thinks their prisoner was murdered, or even if it appears he killed himself, they won't have any reason to seek him. Our objective is to give Casavir his life back, not give him a reason to look over his shoulder for the rest of it."

Torio was quiet for a bit, stroking his hair. "You know, it's not going to be possible to keep Casavir's return low key, Sand. Once we do this he and Kyrie have to leave the Sword Coast."

"That means all of us leave the Sword Coast, Torio."

"I was hoping you would say that. Maybe we can go back to my village, or just pick a place on the map and go. I just want to start a life with you, _a'melamin_. You and my kids and grandfather and the army of little wizards we may have started."

Sand gave a happy chortle. "Well it wouldn't do to conceive a child while we are out on the road in this way. I need a place where I can take care of you, Torio"

"Well Sand, sometimes life doesn't always wait for the most opportune moments to foist itself on us. And no, I wont drink your potions…I just couldn't do that."

He stroked her cheek tenderly, a smile on his lips. "I would _never_ ask you to do that my love. For all of our sakes we need a plan that will work perfectly. Somehow I think that no matter how much we want to do this on our own, this thing is going to balloon out and involve more people. We need to find the dwarf, Khelgar. He might be an uncouth, staff swinging drunkard, but he knows what he's talking about when it comes to this sort of operation."

"We need to get to Crossroad Keep, Sand. There have got to be a few people we can trust with this. Let's just hope that Casavir can hang on, and that Kyrie makes it to the Keep on her own. We can't know where she went, and spending time tracking her when we know where she's going to end up is a bad waste of the little time we have."

They kissed once more, more for emotion then for cover, and Sand drew his hood up over his head, pulling Torio's up over hers as well. Their horses were tethered in the forest, a short walk from the edge of town. Already the brawling had started in the streets, as was common after several hours of night had passed. The drunkards in the taverns and bawdy houses were being tossed out into the street, and they took their aggressions out on one another. There was no law on streets in towns overrun by Luskans, and the wise left town before night fell.

"Althraion…" Torio stopped him and turned him to her. "You do know that even if we get Casavir out, he won't be the same the person he once was. No one leaves a Luskan prison, much less the _raknah_, intact. We can heal their bodies but their minds…"

Torio looked incredibly sad as she thought of the stoic, noble and strong Sir Casavir being returned to Kyrie a shell of his former self.

"My dear, the strength of his mind is between him and his god. Tyr loves his paladins and we can pray that he has given our friend some form of protection. It's become apparent that he has extended great blessings to Kyrie. We can only give the best we can and hope that the gods fill in the rest."

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The contact Melosia had set up for him worried Brother Ilisharan slightly. Knowing what he did about the port city of Luskan and its people, he was not too keen on having one in his chambers. Melosia had told him that the fellow had been a close friend of her brother's, and that he regularly worked as an informant against Luskan. His family had a small shop on the edge of the worst part of town, giving him access to all sorts of information. Melosia's brother had died at sea, and the young man Yarron had remained close to her, keeping an eye on her and her family to ensure they didn't lack anything.

Melosia had also lost her father to the sea when she was but a child, and she and her mother ran a small bakery to provide for themselves. Melosia's mother was a strong woman, having once been a royal guard to a queen in a large city, she taught Melosia from a very early age how to wield a weapon and defend herself. She didn't trust any man to do a job that she herself could do. Brother Ilisharan was surprised when Melosia's mother Madriga had come to him and offered her help also with his plan.

Ilisharan waited impatiently in the hallway for his visitor to arrive. He had insisted the man come to him in the temple instead of somewhere in the village. He also insisted it be after dark when the villagers were at home and not likely to come seeking him for anything.

Brother Ilisharan sighed deeply, the lines on his face deepening with the burden on his heart. He felt old, aged beyond his time by the injustices of war, and worse...by his own brotherhood. He had not wanted to give too many details to the young man before him, but he felt he needed to give enough to inspire Yarron to assist him.

"I left the church because what they did was not Tyr's way. It was the way of fear, not the way of justice. "

The young man before him shook his head. "What you propose to do is nothing short of suicide Brother. People don't just walk into the _raknah_, much less walk out with one of the prisoners!"

"They _took_ that paladin, a hero of the war, under false pretenses! My brotherhood stood by and let them, and I did not stand up to them then. Well I'm going to now. I don't mean to die doing this, I mean to get that paladin out of there. I believe that is what Tyr wants of me. If Tyr wills that I should give up my life for this cause, then I gladly do it. I need to be able to look my god in the eye and say I did right by him all of my days."

His gaze never wavered. "If I were to go to my god today, I would not be deserving to stand in his presence and say I lived my life right."

He stood up straighter his gaze still steadfast. "I need you to get me in."

"I can get you in. But getting you out… I have no idea about. I will find out what I can for you. At least you will go in prepared. I don't want this on my conscience when I go to _my_ god, so I'm going to help you Brother."

Yarron turned back into the darkness of the hall and disappeared.

Brother Ilisharan gave up a quick prayer of thanks to his god, and slipped back to his room.


	15. Chapter 15

_This is an AU. I'm not a stickler for accuracy in the details of the Neverwinter universe such as gods etc. but I do try my best. This story does have explicit sexual content, 18+. If you are offended by sexual themes don't start reading! There is artwork for this story at my deviantart account under aeltari._

Kyrie woke up slowly, feeling her body cushioned by something soft. A blanket of some sort was covering her, and it was bright, so very bright.

She remembered…a field, a green orb, bright amber eyes.

"Bishop!" she called out suddenly, feeling a deep need to see him. She sat up abruptly and a wave of nausea passed over her. With a groan she lay back down and curled up, squeezing her eyes shut until the feeling passed.

"Ahh the child awakens," said a soft, musical female voice.

"Indeed. Now that you have done this, she will have questions for you, some that you may not answer without upsetting the balance." Came a reply in the voice of a male, a deep resonating voice.

"I do not like that you have done this."

"It was necessary." Said the female.

"And besides, you yourself interfered with the human male when you could have simply let him pass to the Wall, as he should have."

"She is kin!" boomed the male.

"Everyone is kin to us!" laughed the female.

"She is kin to _me_! Her heart is good. She requested it of me even as she faced her own death. That is more then I get from most mortals and their lip service."

"I will speak with her. You go on."

"Hrmph. You just remember that you cannot speak of events that have yet to come to pass!"

"Yes, yes, I know the Law. Now go on."

The voice moved away, but didn't leave. It hovered nearby in the form of a bright light, watching, listening.

Kyrie felt a soft, warm hand stroking her forehead.

"Come now little one. You are safe here, awaken and see paradise."

Kyrie opened her eyes and stared up at the strangest being she had ever seen. It was a woman, with large eyes of lavender and skin so pale it was nearly translucent. Her hair looked like spun silver and hung in large curls about her face and shoulders. She appeared larger, taller then any human Kyrie had ever seen before. That in and of itself was odd, but on her back were 2 large, feathered wings. The wings opened and stretched themselves out then folded again, and the woman smiled.

"I take it you have never seen a celestial before?"

"A celestial? I …no. Is that what you are?"

"I am. My name is Adael. You do know that you have celestial blood, little one?"

Kyrie nodded slowly, reaching out to touch the silvery hair and skin.

"I know that I am Aasimar. I have a celestial in my bloodline…is it you? Are you kin to me?"

Adael shook her head, still smiling. "No, it is not I. Your kin has eyes of gold such as you do. You shall see soon enough."

Kyrie frowned, thinking. She felt fuzzy inside, as though something needed to be remembered but was not strong enough to surface. That pervasive feeling was becoming a theme in her life. She shook her head.

The celestial watched her for several minutes. Slowly, Kyrie recalled the cave, the field, Bishop's blindness and their time together. She remembered healing his eyes but not knowing what had happened to him thereafter.

Where is Bishop?" she asked suddenly.

"You mean the human ranger?" the celestial laughed. "You left him behind, remember?"

"Y…yes but…his sight…"

"Your love healed his eyes child. He awoke with the sun in them, and he has gone to find you now."

"Why?"

"His heart beats only for you."

"Is it true, Adael? Is it true that Bishop loves me?"

Adael looked up and behind her, towards the pulsing light. She gave a slight nod to it, in response to something only she could hear.

"I cannot speak for another, little one. That is something you must discover on your own."

Kyrie blinked, and watched the strange pulsating light hovering behind Adael. She wanted to ask what, or who, it was but another question forced itself from her lips.

"Where is Casavir?"

"I am forbidden from speaking of it, little one."

Kyrie sat up slower this time and looked around. She was in a large bed, covered in white sheets and soft blankets. Everything in the room was white, pristine and glowing.

"Where am I? I heard you say … paradise."

"Indeed. Welcome to Mount Celestia, little one."

Kyrie's eyes grew wide with horror. "Mount Celestia! Then…then I have died? I have passed to Tyr's home? But… but why Tyr? Is he my god? I have his mark, Bishop said I am kin to Tyr!"

The celestial laughed, that soft melodic laugh of hers.

"Oh my, and so begins the questions from you! One thing at a time. You have not died. I have brought you here. This is indeed Tyr's home. Is he your god? You devoted your life to him. You are one of Tyr's brightest paladins. You are also his kin. Your mother was one of us, a celestial. She was a daughter of Tyr. That makes you his granddaughter, little one."

"What? I…I…am kin to a _god?_ How is that even possible? I was a paladin? Like Casavir?"

The gentle celestial nodded, one wing stretching out for her to smooth a rogue feather down.

"You certainly were. You have followed the teachings of Tyr since you first learned to read. The blood flows strong in you, little one. You were drawn to him unfailingly from the very beginning. As for how it is possible, gods have kin too. Celestials like me, normally we cannot produce offspring. However, sometimes a favored daughter can be gifted by a god. It happens, as it did with your mother."

"That's really true? My…my mother was given _me_ as a gift?" Kyrie's eyes were wide and incredulous.

"Aye, that is the truth, granddaughter." The loud, sonorous voice bounced off every wall in the room. Kyrie saw the pulsating light descend and grow larger, the figure of a man appearing beside the celestial. She saw the missing arm, the bright gold on the tunic, and she very nearly fell from the bed onto her knees.

"Mighty Tyr, great father of justice." Kyrie was trembling so hard she thought she would come apart.

She felt a heavy hand upon her head.

"Stand, my shining star. Let me look upon you."

Kyrie stood, looking at the ground, terrified. She didn't remember being a paladin, she didn't remember taking vows to serve this god, but one didn't stand in the face of _any_ god and not show proper regard.

"Look upon me, granddaughter. Do not fear. It is not always that I am given the opportunity to look upon the living. I have watched you from my mountain, seen your trials, your tears, your joy. I have always been proud of you. I was proud of you the day you took your vows to follow me, I am proud of your heart, your sword, your mind. You have proudly defended all I hold dear, upholding the ideals of right and good without a thought to your own comfort or desires."

Kyrie slowly raised her eyes. The man before her was massive. He stood almost 8 feet tall, muscular and wide, his right hand missing, his tunic a bright white with intricate gold designs. Gold filigree wound around his legs and arms, a belt of heavy gold adorned his waist. The brightness hurt her eyes and she blinked and squinted up at his face. His hair was white, as was his long, wavy beard…but his eyes, deep set and large were golden. Despite his imposing stature, kindness and mercy emanated from his very being.

Kyrie smiled widely, her fear forgotten.

"You have sunset eyes like mine!"

Tyr laughed, a booming, delightful sound. "Aye child, that I do. Adael…I shall take it from here."

He made a small gesture with his hands.

They were standing in a field. The great Tyr was now in full battle regalia. His armor was shining silver, with his symbol emblazoned on the chest. A massive longsword hung in a bejeweled scabbard from his waist. His head was crowned with a diadem of metal set with a large blue gem, his beard no longer white and long but brown and short with a slash of silver in the center. His hair was wild and disheveled and hung to his shoulders.

Kyrie looked down and saw that she wore the same armor, a similar sword hung at her waist in its scabbard. Reaching up she noticed that her ebony hair was held up on the sides by some sort of metalwork. She felt strong. She looked up at the god, _her_ god. She liked the kind face, and felt completely at ease in his presence now.

"Child, I know you have questions. Although I admonished Adael to be cautious about answering your questions, I have decided to do it myself. However, I may not allow you to return with some of this knowledge, depending on what we speak, and there are some things which I will not open to you. Now ask me what you will."

Kyrie looked up into the sunset eyes so much like her own, and knew that he could look well past her, into her very soul and see what lay there. For a split second she felt guilt and shame, but there was nothing inside her that he did not already know.

"W…where is Casavir?"

Tyr sadly shook his head. "The answer you seek is part of your journey. I will tell you this and allow it to pass: you carry part of him with you, inside you."

Kyrie bit her lip and considered his words, then the truth dawned on her and her eyes grew large and luminous.

"Inside me? Are you saying that I carry his child?"

Tyr nodded.

Her hand went to her abdomen, now ensconced within the armor. Her eyes prickled with unshed tears and she fought to control them, those waves of guilt rising up to drown her once more.

"Conceived before the great battle, child."

"That was the only night we…that was the first time I had…" she didn't want to talk about _that_. She didn't want to be thrown into a memory here, before the great god she had apparently devoted her life to. Tyr nodded slowly in understanding.

Kyrie was quiet for awhile. "Were you the green orb that brought me to Bishop?"

"That was not I"

"Who was it then? And why?"

"It is not my way to meddle in the affairs of the living. However there are other deities who take much amusement from this pastime. Two sisters, Sune and Shar were embroiled in an argument. Sune tried to convince her sister that true love will always prevail no matter what the circumstances. Shar disagreed. She believed that if one's life were to change completely so would one's choices in love. They happened to come upon you, as scrying deities are apt to do. The war of shadow was not a small event and its players fell upon the notice of the Outer Planes quite easily. Shar made you forget, set a darkness over your mind, placed secrets in your heart. Sune restores those memories occasionally to balance her sister's actions. It was Shar, in the form of the orb, who sent you to Bishop. While it is true that you forgave him his actions the day of the great battle, Shar believed that you could do far more then that and _love_ him, while Sune was convinced that your love for my paladin Casavir would prevail because the memories of the heart could not be erased. Tell me child, who was right?"

Tyr was looking down on her with curiosity, and Kyrie looked away. She felt terrible inside. Remembering Casavir, knowing that she had been with Bishop, feeling as much for him as she now did…she wanted to forget all of it again and be blissfully happy in her ignorance.

"Your answer will not change anything in this world, child. Here it matters not who you loved and lost, who you hated and reviled. Your journey through life is composed of many such moments, and there is no true right and wrong. Even the darkness has its followers. Now tell me, which one of the sisters prevailed?"

Kyrie's lower lip trembled as she fought for control of her overwhelming sadness. She looked up at Tyr.

"Shar" she said softly. "I did not remember Casavir, and I have fallen in love with Bishop. But I love my Cassi so much as well…I love them both."

"I see. Your journey will not be an easy one then. For your decision, once made, will undoubtedly leave behind a shattered heart."

Kyrie nodded miserably.

"I had friends, I don't remember them. Are they still alive?"

"Some are, some are not."

"Did…did those who died go to the Wall?"

Tyr shook his head. "They were all judged and passed on to the lands of their gods."

Kyrie smiled at that, glad that those she once called friend were free in the Outer Planes, having given such a great sacrifice. Her mind wound about those lost memories, and came to a stop at her own family.

"If my mother was a celestial, who was my father? Was he a deity?"

"Your father is a human king. His dalliance with your mother was widely maligned as she was not of noble mortal blood. It did not matter to those fools that she was _my_ beloved daughter! Your father sent her away and regretted it immediately thereafter."

Anger tinged the mighty voice.

"She begged me for a child of his, and I could not refuse. Your father heard word of your birth but was never able to find your mother. He still searches for you."

"Does that mean _my_ baby is of royal blood?"

"For as much as mortal blood is worth, yes."

"Will this knowledge threaten her…his… wellbeing?"

"When does wealth, power and status _not_ threaten the wellbeing of mortals? They have not yet learned that what is prized most highly is not found in the form of gold or influence with men."

"Then to protect my child, it should not be revealed, if I find my father."

"I cannot influence you, child. Those choices, should they present themselves to you, will be yours to make."

Kyrie nodded sadly.

"Is my mother with you, here?"

"She is. She travels the Outer Planes freely. You shall not see her until you have passed beyond The Prime. It is Law."

"Will I get my memories back? All of them?"

"That is up to Sune and Shar. They began this journey with you and they must see it to completion. They are bound to this by Law, and may not interfere with your choices and decisions, but they are permitted to cloak your past in darkness, allowing you to experience each decision and its choices independent of others. Your friends and those you meet, are not subject to this deception, and they may remember things you do not. Whether you choose to believe their words or not is up to you. Not everyone has your best interest at heart. Keep in mind, your heart remembers everything and you have but to listen to its quiet voice, child."

"Where is Bishop? Is he alright?"

"He is travelling to find you. You have taught him where his heart is. He has given it to you freely. Child, you look away in unhappiness when you hear these words. Why?"

Kyrie shook her head. She felt disloyal, dark, defiled by her choices. She had been robbed of her memories, forced to grope around in a haze, only to find that what she held onto would give her more pain once the haze lifted.

"I gave my heart to Casavir, and he gave his to me. I gave him my body, and he gave me his. This is a vow of love I took most seriously. I love him! Now I find out I am carrying his child, a child made out of love…but because I was _robbed_ of my memories by 2 meddling deities, I have fallen in love with Casavir's mortal enemy! This will tear his heart asunder when he finds out! I cannot keep such a truth from him, it would be unjust! Why did you let them do this to me mighty Tyr? Why? You said I served you well and you were proud! Was I, was my love not worth protecting?"

Kyrie couldn't hold back the sob that wrenched itself free from her lips. She stood, tears sliding down her face, her eyes on the god's, never wavering. She was caught between anger, pain, sorrow, and a need to remain strong before this mighty being.

The god laid a large hand on the side of her face.

"Child, you would have walked this road regardless of Shar and Sune. Would I have permitted them to throw you into any situation of _their_ choosing? No. You were destined, with your great heart, to change the life of the human ranger one way or another."

"What do you mean?"

"When you were born, your destiny was laid before me. The deities Gwaeron Windstrom and Solonor Thelandira approached me. As an infant, the man known as Bishop was dedicated to them, in return for their many gifts. However, he turned from them and like most deities they wish to have him returned to the fold, so to speak. They asked me if I would weave his destiny in with yours. I did not like what I saw in him. He was not deserving of you, and the best I would give them is that you and Bishop would be thrown together, and what came of it was left to chance."

Kyrie's face showed her relief. Bishop had gods who wanted his reverence!

"I did not believe that you would want anything to do with him. What was not foreseen was your forgiveness of him, child. He was destined to be sent to oblivion in the Wall of the Faithless, but your plea to me saved him. Like your mother before you, there is not much I will not grant so long as it follows Law. Loving him was a choice your heart made. As for my paladin, Casavir dreamed of you many years before he met you. He kept himself untouched, waiting patiently for this golden eyed woman who walked in his dreams. He loved you before he even met you. You were destined to change his life, too. In what way is never known. That is governed by the choices you make. You forgive the foibles of others so easily, child. It is your celestial blood, _my_ blood that gives you this great power."

They stood in silence for a long while.

"I must return you to The Prime, child. The Outer Planes is no place for the living. Your memories, your decisions and choices, good or bad they are part of you. You will remember this place as you remember a dream. Your mind and your heart will battle one another for the truth. It may seem unjust, but it follows Law. I will allow you to remember that I love you, and that you are my paladin, my divine champion for Law and Good on The Prime. If you choose not to continue life in that capacity it will not change my feelings for you. Who you are is not subject to the labels of mortals. You are my kin, granddaughter."

He said this last with great affection, smiling down at her. It was the first time in her life that she felt that she truly belonged somewhere.

"Will you help me, great Tyr? Will you help me find Casavir?"

"I will help you as much as Law allows, but this is your journey and you must reach its completion by your own decisions and choices, child. It is not meant to be an easy road, but nor is it one you must travel alone."

"Goodbye, mighty grandfather," said Kyrie softly as she suddenly felt incredibly heavy and tired and felt herself falling.

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She awoke to the feel of a soft, velvety muzzle exploring her face. Opening her eyes, Kyrie saw a large black horse standing over her, ears erect and inquisitive.

Dragging herself up, she saw a pile of shiny silver armor, a scabbard and a beautiful longsword. Beneath her was a cloak of a fine, soft, grey wool. The horse was fully tacked complete with saddle bags. She stood and looked him over. He was a war horse, with large feathered feet and a lengthy mane and tail. What was his name? Her mind was hazy, again.

Kyrie smiled as she gave the muscular neck a pat. The inquisitive equine lips nipped at her clothing searching for treats. Puzzled, she looked around the little camp. She must have set up camp and fallen asleep out of pure exhaustion. She didn't remember coming to this place, nor did she remember anything in the camp. She picked up the breastplate and ran her hand over the beautiful crest of Tyr. An overwhelming feeling of love washed over her and the joy it brought lit up her face. She had been travelling home to Crossroad Keep.

_Casavir_

His name hit her like a hammer. Her hand immediately went to her belly. _I am carrying his child._ The knowledge was secure and steadfast. Why did she seem so amazed by it? She and her beloved had only had 1 night together, the night before the great battle, 3 days after…after what? Her mind was filled with fog. She touched the symbol of Tyr again.

_Three days after you were wed. You are Lady de Chantraine. Your child was conceived in wedlock, a physical reminder of a great love._

Kyrie sat down ungracefully on the cloak. Memories. She suddenly remembered the chapel, the Tyrrian brother, the secret ceremony the cleric had gifted them with, the trip home…that first, and last, night.

_He held her tenderly, standing behind her stroking her cheek with the soft petals of a crimson rose. Its counterparts lay on the stone floor of the balcony, where she had dropped them in her rush to embrace her beloved._

_She didn't need to turn around to know that his steel blue eyes were blazing with passion. She could feel it in the way he held her._

_"Oh, Cassi," she spoke softly, forcing back the tears that threatened to spill from her sunset colored eyes.. "What if it all ends tomorrow, all we have worked for, all of our dreams and hopes? What if this is our last night in this world?" So much rested on the coming battle with the King of Shadows, so many lives at stake, so many souls at risk._

_Kyrie felt an ache in her chest where she knew a sliver of the silver sword of Gith lay entrenched within her. It, along with the other shards she had in her possession was the only weapon capable of killing the dreaded King of Shadows. She hadn't asked for any of this. Impaled with the shard as an infant, fate had thus marked her. All she had wanted was to continue her fight against evil in the name of Tyr as a paladin. The only blessing Tyr had sent her was her soul mate, her beloved, noble Casavir._

_He turned her to face him, one hand on her shoulder the other cupping her face gently. "Milady, Kyrie. Do not speak such words. We have pledged our lives to one another. Our life together is just beginning. Tyr will see us through this." He brought his lips to close upon hers, barely able to contain his trembling desire. She allowed the kiss, but her mind was reeling._

_"Cassi, I have never felt so afraid in my life. What if we fail? Worse, what if one of us...." she couldn't continue, but merely looked up into his strong, handsome face. _

_"Kyrie, you are my life, my reason for living. Should anything...happen...to me...I will find a way back to you. Even if it means traversing the nine hells, I WILL find a way back."_

_Carefully he lifted her into his arms._

_"My love, there is nowhere I would choose to be this night, but at your side, loving you, becoming part of you....oh gods how I wish I could stop time..."_

_She kissed him in response, and he carried her off the balcony towards their chambers, his boots crushing the roses on the stone floor._

_Ky_rie pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. So much was put into those precious hours they had had together. So much love, so much passion.

_He lay her down gently on the bed. She lay naked, unashamed beneath his adoring gaze. She was amazed at how beautiful he was. She had not seen him in any form of undress before now, always her mind had to imagine the lines of the musculature beneath his armor, his clothing. She had often envisioned how it would feel to touch his naked skin, her imagination filling in the area between his legs. She gazed openly at his nether patch of dark hair. His member was thicker, longer then she had thought it would be. _

"_It seems that I have dreamed of this for a lifetime, milady, my love. I need you to know that I have kept myself untouched, unknown by a woman until now. I hope this does not displease you." _

_He said it somewhat shyly, unsure of her reaction. His open honesty made her smile, and she held her arms out to him. Casavir crawled onto the bed beside her and turned her face to his, their lips brushing against one another._

"_Since we are confessing, I also have not ever been with anyone before." She did not wish to tell him that she didn't really know what to expect, just that she wanted to show him the depth of her love for him._

"_I have never felt so honored in my life, beloved. That you have chosen me to give this great gift to is beyond description." _

_His lips sought hers again, and he kissed her deeply, his tongue massaging hers. Casavir's hands, so strong and sure in battle, were now tender and tentative as they explored her body. Enthralled with her, he brushed his lips against her neck, her breasts while she ran her fingers through his thick ebony waves. _

_He kissed down her abdomen to the soft patch of hair between her legs. He lay his cheek against her hip bone, and carefully ran a finger down between her soft wet folds. In response, Kyrie spread her legs for him slightly, and he probed her inner lips carefully, searching for her opening. He was so gentle, so cautious, and when he found it, he pressed a finger ever so tenderly against it, waiting for her body to accept him. It was mildly uncomfortable for her, but the feeling of his finger exploring inside her was pleasant._

_Casavir kept his finger inside her, pushing upwards against her walls, and began kissing, licking and sucking her tender areas. She sighed and moved against him, delighting in the intensity of the feeling of his lips. He moved his finger in and out of her while his tongue made little circles around her sensitive nub. Carefully, he inserted a second finger, trying to stretch her opening, preparing it for his member which was straining for attention. The stretching was painful, and she tensed up, closing around his fingers. He looked up at her, his electric blue eyes ablaze with desire. He pushed into her a bit further and she gave a little yelp. Whispering words of healing, a blue glow flared up around his fingers, and the pain subsided. He withdrew from her and moved back up to kiss her breasts, neck and lips. Kyrie was so grateful she could have cried. This man knew how to care for her, love her, make her feel comforted._

_Kyrie let her hands roam over his beautiful body, finally curling around his extremely hard member. It felt larger in her hands then it looked, and gripping him made him groan softly. She wasn't sure how her body would react to his penetration, but trusted that he knew what to do. She stroked him, squeezed him, made him inhale sharply with every stroke. She looked deep into his eyes and saw the pleasure glowing there, as well as lust and intense desire._

"_My love, I am aware that this is going to hurt you, since its your first time. I promise you that I will be as gentle as I can. Do you trust me, Kyrie?"_

_She nodded. Casavir moved himself between her legs, and she felt his hardness pressing against her wet, swollen opening. He pushed part of his member carefully into her, then pulled back out, tenderly nibbling on her lips to distract her. He felt her body give way to him, and slowly but surely moved deeper into her each time, but when he had entered halfway he felt her stiffen up and she moved herself away from him. He distracted her with his hands, his lips, moved in and out of her as gently and slowly as he could, but couldn't get more then half of his length into her. _

_Beneath him, Kyrie felt as though she would break. His girth was stretching her small, tight opening painfully, and if that wasn't bad enough, something was hurting her inside each time he penetrated. She didn't say anything, just bore the pain as bravely as she could, but she was sure he was aware that she wasn't enjoying it. Still, he moved gently, doing his best to allow her body to adjust to him. He stopped moving, letting her settle around him. _

"_My love, I am so sorry. I want this to be pleasurable for you, but I know that takes time. The one thing we need, we do not have the luxury of. Do you want me to stop?"_

"_Cassi, no. Its alright. Its true that its hurting me, but I want to make love to you, this night of all nights. You are trying your best, I love you so much for that. We just need to get through this and all will be well."_

_"I do not have proper words to convey how deeply I love you, my Kyrie. I only hope that somehow your heart will tell you what words cannot."_

_When he felt her opening relax slightly, he pushed again, a bit harder with more insistence. He was well aware of the pain it would cause her, and it tore at his heart._

"_Just take a deep breath, milady."_

_She had just started to do so when she felt a searing, tearing pain inside her. He pushed his entire length all the way in and she cried out as her opening spasmed. Casavir, eyes tightly shut with regret, began to move in and out of her. She winced with each movement, her nether regions spasming with pain, and she fought to keep the sobs away. Casavir stopped and held himself deep inside her. Sitting back on his knees, he brought a trembling hand down and inserted a finger quickly into her above his member. This action stretched her sore opening further and she whimpered and looked pleadingly at him. Casavir quickly whispered those words of healing once more and took her pain from her. She sighed with relief, her body completely relaxing._

_After that, the magic of their love, their devotion took over. Casavir's body seemed made for her, they fit together perfectly, moved in unison. He stopped several times when the emotion and the pleasure threatened to overwhelm him. Kyrie sometimes sat astride him, his hardness filling her, her head flung back and her back arched, her long ebony hair falling in cascades down her back. His strokes were powerful, strong, intense. Every thrust was intended to show her without question how much he loved her. Every touch of his hands on her body, every kiss, glance, and smile a renewing of the vows they had made to one another._

_They would lie beside each other, her leg thrown over his hip, his member buried inside her, and it was almost like a dance, each movement from one, matched or countered by the other. They rode the waves of intense pleasure, sweat dripping from their bodies, the sheets rumpled, twisted beneath them. The occasional breeze from the window would create gooseflesh on their skin, making Kyrie's nipples stand out, luring his soft, sensual lips to them._

_For hours they reveled in each other's bodies, every sense they had alive. Kyrie and Casavir lived those moments with the full realization that they might not have another tomorrow, that this might be their one and only chance to show their great, undying love. Tears leaked from her eyes as he brought her nearer and nearer to release. She didn't want it to end, wanted time to freeze them in this time, this place. He would not let himself go until she had, this woman who was everything to him. She was his captain, his lady, his wife._

_With an unrestrained shriek, Kyrie gave in to the rush of ecstasy that began as an ember inside her and spread like wildfire over her entire body. She felt the muscles between her legs bunch up around him, squeezing him, then let go, shuddering and twitching. Seeing and hearing her pleasure, Casavir thrust hard and deep into her, releasing with a cry, filling her with his seed. She felt the heat erupt from him, felt him pulse as he held them tightly together, wanting nothing more then to never let go._

_His lips pressed against hers, his tongue probing hers. She had her hands in his hair, memorizing the feel of it under her fingers._

"_Casavir, I love you."_

"_And I you, Lady de Chantraine. Come what may, my heart, my soul, my life will always belong to you."_

Kyrie heard his voice, felt the sensation of his lips on hers, the feel of his hair, his skin. That night, they created the tiny life now nestled within her. Her heart was screaming at her, begging her to acknowledge that this man, her paladin, her beloved still lived. It didn't care that her memory was in tatters, what it cared about was that the great love it carried for Sir Casavir de Chantraine needed resolution. Kyrie needed to go back to where it all started. Needed to reclaim what was hers.

Crossroad Keep.

She looked at the armor bits laying on the ground, and put them on, slowly, piece by piece. As she did so, she found her hazy mind recalling a place, a time…or was it a dream? A dream of a man who called her kin. A man with golden eyes like hers. Was it her father? No…something spoke from deep within, the memory of a voice.

_Your father is a mortal king._

She smirked at the thought. _Me? A princess? Royalty? Hardly. I could not drink enough to make myself believe that one._

_Your mother was a celestial._

Celestials are unable to produce children, of that she was sure. _So my father the king and my mother the celestial somehow managed to produce me. A strange and lovely dream to be sure. A dream of longing from a poor girl from…from…_her mind drew a blank.

Strapping the beautiful scabbard and longsword on, Kyrie felt strong. She touched the symbol of Tyr on her chest and smiled. Her god, always with her.

Kyrie mounted the horse and looked around. A short way off in the trees she spied a path.

"There we go! In time this will lead us somewhere, right?" she spoke to the beast and he turned his head and nudged her foot.

"Lets go!" he broke into a trot, a smooth almost floating movement, rarely seen in a warhorse of his size and musculature. Her concerns of harming Casavir's child dissipated and she concentrated on the journey ahead.


	16. Chapter 16

Brother Ilisharan was trembling. They stood across the street from a small ramshackle house, in the dreaded city of Luskan. Information had come flooding in to his small cell in the village church within days of his meeting with the informant. Yarron had come back with three of his most trusted friends bearing maps and disguises. They had gone over the city layout until the good Brother knew it backwards and forwards.

They had shown him where the dreaded prison was, each entrance and exit, where the guards came and went from and where the captain of the guards had his office. He memorized the way out of the prison grounds from the guard's infirmary. Yarron and the men had introduced him to several drawings of the cleric that was charged with keeping Sir Casavir alive, day after day. They laid out the plan.

Yarron would dispatch the cleric and Brother Ilisharan would take his place. A guard would escort the brother to Casavir's cell. Once there, Ilisharan would ask him to help move Casavir. When the guard did so, he would be knocked on the head. Ilisharan would then proceed to temporarily heal Casavir, enough to stabilize him, switch the clothing and proceed with part two of the plan.

He would ask Casavir to wound him, and barring that he would have to wound himself and cover Casavir's face with the blood to hide his face. He would then call for help, the arriving guard would believe the story of the "prisoner" who went berserk and escort them to the guard's infirmary. It was easy to leave from there. Yarron would be waiting with two horses just outside the walls and Ilisharan would take himself and Sir Casavir out of Luskan to an area he had already chosen and prepared beforehand.

One of Yarron's friends was a wizard, and he had prepared an illusion spell to cast on Ilisharan. The spell was not long lasting, and if there were any anti-magic fields up then he had best be in his disguise just in case. He did not resemble the Luskan cleric much in the daylight, but in the darkness of the prison with the poor lighting and a hood over his head there would be no issue.

"That's where the cleric lives," said Yarron softly. "We will be going in tonight. I will take care of him, and you will be ready to take his place when you are summoned in the morning."

"You are not going to kill him, are you?" Brother Ilisharan did not want any deaths on his conscience. Killing an unarmed brother was unjust, and a great sin. Yarron looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"We are in Luskan, Brother. Every man here would just as soon stab you in the heart then say hello. This isn't the civilized city of Neverwinter. Every manner of thief and cutthroat roams these streets, not to mention the demon worshippers. If you mean to do this Brother, then we will do this right. I will not be risking my life, nor that of my friends if you are not willing to do what needs to be done. Tell me now, for once we walk down this road there is no turning back. Some or all of us might die or be captured ourselves. Is this a risk you are still willing to undertake?"

Brother Ilisharan tried to quell the fear that was roiling in his stomach. The idea of this plan had been so easy to form, but now that the reality was upon him he was terrified. His mind suddenly recalled the sunset eyes of the Lady Knight. He drew himself up.

"We will do it your way. May Tyr forgive me."

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Khelgar strode into the inn, and looked about. The note had been cryptic and unsigned, giving him no idea who would summon him out of the Ironfist stronghold. A pretty young elven barmaid came towards him, holding out a large tankard of ale.

"Your friends are here, and they are waiting in the room upstairs at the end of the hall. They said to give you this."

Khelgar looked suspiciously at her. "How do ye know it be me they are wantin'?"

"I don't see any other monk dwarves with red beards carrying a quarterstaff, do you?"

Khelgar laughed heartily and took the proffered tankard. It was his favorite ale; whoever had sent this was obviously someone he knew well. He headed upstairs to the end of the hall.

"Come on out!" he called at the door. "Ye willna get Khelgar Ironfist into a dark room less there be lasses waitin'!" he laughed again, holding his staff at the ready just in case.

The door opened, and a familiar sing-song voice greeted him. "Well if it isn't the warrior turned monk. You don't have anything to fear from us, dwarf, we have travelled together far and wide."

Khelgar's eyes opened wide and a huge grin split his face.

"As I live and breathe! I never thought te see ye again, elfy!"

He walked into the room and saw a female figure sitting at the table, with a hood over her head, her face cloaked in shadow. Sand sat down beside her, beckoning the dwarf to sit.

"Thank you for coming, Khelgar. It was a chore to find a messenger willing to descend into the Stronghold to send the message."

"Eh, I was gettin' mighty bored down there. Teachin' young 'uns te fight isna always excitin'! I sometimes miss the old days when we were crackin' skulls left and right and fightin' tha good fight! Ye remember tha little lassie there, our Knight Captain, oooo she had that way with tha' sword, her hair a-flyin' this way and that!" the dwarf animatedly swayed and waved his hands in excitement. Suddenly, reality jerked him back down to earth. He looked at Sand, and his happy eyes turned down at the corners. His voice turned sombre.

"She went down in tha fortress there and didna come out again, eh laddie. And the knight Casavir…they be together now aye, on the Mount, with Tyr!" he raised his tankard and toasted the air, then drank deeply.

"Actually, Khelgar, they aren't with Tyr at all."

"Och as pious as those two were, they are dinin' with the god every day!"

"They are alive, Khelgar."

"Alive ye say! What do ye mean, alive?!"

He looked at the cloaked figure, then back at Sand then at the cloaked figure again. She raised her hands and pulled the hood off.

"By Tyr's hand! You!"

"I'm sorry, Khelgar," said Sand. "We didn't mean to deceive you but not everyone was as forgiving towards Torio as Kyrie was. We didn't think you would have come if you had seen her."

Sand reached across and gave her hand an affectionate squeeze and smiled at her.

Khelgar looked at the open show of affection and drank down the rest of the tankard then shook his head.

"What's the world comin' to? The two of ye always sparrin' with yer words! I thought there was murder in both yer eyes when ye looked at each other! Must have been somethin' else _my_ eyes didna see! What is this now, elfy? She yer woman?"

Sand smiled ingratiatingly at him. "Indeed, Torio is my _"woman" _as you so eloquently put it. We have known each other a long time, and have come to terms with our pasts. Is this going to be a problem for you, Khelgar?"

"Nay laddie. I care not who ye choose te spend yer life with. The lassie got the forgiveness from Kyrie, that's good enough for me te go on. Ye've a good head on yer shoulders, ye know how to judge folks and Ive not got te be stickin' my nose where it dont belong! Now ye tell me somethin' like Kyrie is alive! What do ye mean?"

Torio and Sand spent the next 2 hours detailing their adventures with the ebony haired paladin. They discussed their notions that Casavir was also alive, and most of all, what they proposed to do about it.

"Yer talkin' about walkin' into Luskan, and getting' a prisoner out of there! Torio ye know how impossible that might be! I better get me Ironfists together! Its gonna be a fight te end all fights!"

"No, Khelgar, that's the thing. We aren't going in there with an army, as tempting as that is. I want to raze that evil city to the ground myself for what they did to Sand and I, but its about Kyrie and Casavir." said Torio.

"We need a plan that will see us in, and then out, with Casavir. We have the intel Torio can provide about the prison. She and I both know the city very well. Have you heard anything from the tiefling, Neeshka?"

"Nay lad. I can tell ye she frequents Duncan's old place there, she's not the same since she heard Kyrie fell. Last I knew she was still in Neverwinter, keeping away from tha Keep and all its memories! The little druid, she went off te Neverwinter Wood, or so I heard tell. She didna like the Keep or the city neither being a tree-worshipper an' all. As for Ammon and Grobnar, they never made it out of the fortress, and I heard that traitorous ranger was torn apart by the rocks. Good riddance on that devil! If he hadna died I'd a killed him myself!" Khelgar shook his fist.

"You would have had to wait your turn after I was through with him. That might have taken awhile." retorted Sand dryly. "We need to get messages out to Neeshka and Elanee if possible. As for Kyrie, we are hoping that she makes it back to the Keep. Unless she has heard the rumors regarding Casavir, she will not be heading to Luskan. Kyrie had many friends in the Keep, and Torio and I are headed there to speak with them. We don't want many to know about this, the less people involved the better. Will you travel with us?"

Khelgar laughed heartily. "Will I! Anythin' is better then rottin' away down there! Adventure! Just like the good ol' days! When do we leave? Im ready te go now!" He clapped his hands and stood up.

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Kyrie rode up to the Keep gate. The guards asked her who she was and what business she had inside. With a trembling hand she pulled the hood from her head and looked down at them.

They stood, shocked for a moment, then bowed low.

"Milady Knight Captain! We...we took you for dead!"

"This is the work of Tyr! We must let the people know!"

Kyrie dismounted.

"No. Please keep this quiet. I do not want the entire Keep being set on its ear because of me. The truth is, I will not be here for long and I do not wish to cause any ruckus. Please summon Sergeants Bevil and Katriona, and Lt. Kana to Deekin's shop."

There was much rejoicing and storytelling in that back room of the kobold's shop. Delighted at being included, the little creature closed up his shop and scuttled back and forth, bringing them drinks and snacks, then sitting quietly on a stool nearby, listening to the wonderful tales of the "Sunset Captain". The myths were untangled from the truths, and rumors were confirmed or denied.

Kyrie was honest with them, her memories were still not intact and there was as yet far too much she did not remember. There were still faces and places that slipped from her grasp when she tried to hang onto them, but slowly things were falling back into place. Bevil was saddened that she did not remember their adventurous childhood together or their friend Amie. She did not mention Daeghun or her Uncle Duncan but she did remember meeting Katriona at Old Owl Well. That memory was tied up with the day she first met Casavir.

The four of them were riveted when she detailed her meeting with Torio in the little village, their subsequent friendship and how the former ambassador had eked out a living for herself and her two children.

"She has children?" Kana's eyes almost fell out of her head.

"Yes a little boy and a little girl. She adopted them. The girl was a Luskan orphan."

"I just cant believe that woman even has a heart, much less one large enough to do something like that." Kana drank her mead and curled her legs under her on the bed she was sitting on.

Kyrie turned to Bevil.

"Well how have things been for you since the war ended?"

Her oldest friend smiled shyly and looked at Katriona, who gave him a smile back. Kyrie looked at the both of them, a grin lighting up her face.

"Im glad you are still here, Bevil. Seems like you have something to stay for now... I thought maybe you would have left."

"Well, for awhile he did," said Katriona. "After your...funeral...he refused to believe you had died. He went to the ruins of West Harbor, and I followed him. It was there we realized we had a lot in common. Although it was a very sad situation, something good did come out of it." She reached over and squeezed Bevil's shoulder with a smile.

"Kyrie, does this mean you will be resuming your command of this Keep?" Kana resumed her military air. "If so, there is much I need to brief you on. There have been many changes since the war."

There was silence in the room for many minutes. Kyrie looked at each one of them in turn, thanking Tyr for their continued love and loyalty.

"The truth is, I dont think I will be staying long. No part of my heart believes that my Cassi died after the battle."

"Captain, at the risk of sounding unkind, that is your grief speaking. You have been through so much, you have not settled long enough to properly grieve his loss."

Kyrie's eyes burned bright as she focused them on her Lieutenant. Before she could speak, Bevil spoke up also.

"I...I think Lt. Kana is right, Kyrie. I felt the same way about my mother and my siblings after West Harbor was destroyed. That feeling, it stuck with me and when I was told that you had died too, I went back to West Harbor, with Katriona. I really believed I would find some sign that you were all alive."

Kyrie pursed her lips to try and stem the flood of tears that wanted nothing more then to leak from her eyes.

"Bevil you said you never believed that I was dead."

"Thats right. I just didnt believe it."

"But...here I am..." she reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. "Why cant I be right too?"

No one had an easy answer for that, nor any answer at all, and they sat quietly for some time, drinking their mead and nibbling on the snacks. Kyrie turned around and sought out the kobold.

"Deekin, Im very glad that you are still here." she said softly. The little creature hopped off his stool and bounded over, coming to stand in the middle of the little seated group.

"Deekin never leave Keep! Little shop has roof! Deekin loves roof! Shadow man try and break Deekin's shop but Deekin has friends! Small people come and fix Deekin's shop!"

Kyrie hugged the little kobold. "Small people? Dwarves?"

"Not dwarves, the small people! The young ones!"

"I think he means the orphans, Wolf and Dory and their friends." said Katriona. "They have been really wonderful. For children, they are so eager to help. You did a good thing letting them come here, Captain."

The kobold leapt from foot to foot excitedly. "Yes! Deekin small friends named Dory and Wolf! Help Deekin so Deekin help them! Deekin feed them and give them toys!"

Kyrie's heart leaped with pride. So much happiness lay within the walls of her Keep. People were finding one another and starting lives together. It was a blessing to see the once ruined Keep beautifully restructured the way it was. It was her home, yet she could not take any joy for herself. The man she loved, her soulmate was missing.

Reluctantly Kyrie reiterated that she would not be staying at the Keep for long for her heart was insisting she look for her knight. She refused to hear any part about Casavir being dead, buried or otherwise memorialized, and in the end there was nothing any of them could say to dissuade her. Kyrie did not share with them the fact that she was with child. She wished to keep that knowledge to herself for a time, to share privately this final bond she had with her precious Casavir.

Kyrie decreed that when Torio Claven returned to the Keep, she be made welcome and treated as an honored guest. She made it clear that Sir Nevalle's threat towards the former ambassador was made while the Keep had no Lord, and now that she was alive and well control was rerouted to her once more. Kyrie appointed Kana as overseer of the Keep in her absence.

"There is one more thing I feel I need to share with you, and although it will be hard I ask you to keep an open mind." said Kyrie. She told of her encounter with Bishop and her belief that something inside him had been irrevocably changed by Tyr's will.

"That demon has no right to be walking this world after what he did to you, to all of us!" exclaimed Kana. "I can't think of _anything_ that could possibly redeem that traitor!"

"Not even the god of justice?" questioned Kyrie gently.

Kana bristled at this, but she respected her Captain and had enough sense to fear the gods.

"Well I dont believe he would dare show his face around here if he knows what is good for him!"

Kyrie sighed softly and sadly.

"Kana, if Bishop should ever appear here, please inform your men that he is not to be harmed. Detain him to a prison cell and inform me immediately. If I am not here, then he is to be told that and allowed to leave the Keep."

"Captain, are you certain this is wise? The men have been told to shoot on sight of him. He is branded a traitor of Neverwinter by Lord Nasher himself." Kana was not impressed.

"Lieutenant, this is not the city of Neverwinter. This is Crossroad Keep and I am its head. Lord Nasher does not control the ruling of this place as he does his own city. Bishop is _not _to be harmed. Do I have your word?"

Kana nodded, her lips tight. Kyrie touched her shoulder gently.

"You have done a remarkable job here, and you will continue to do so. I know you bear ill will towards Bishop for his actions, as did I, but I am a follower of Tyr and as such have great faith in the words and deeds of my god. Please trust me in this."

Slightly appeased, Kana gave her a small smile.

"It will be as you say, Knight Captain."

"Should we share the good news of your return with your people, Kyrie?" asked Bevil.

"Please let them know, but also ask them to keep everything low key. I will send a message to Lord Nasher and the Nine myself. We all know that Bards will spread this story far and wide soon enough. I...I am not ready yet to face the notoriety that comes with the battle we fought and won. I need time to grieve those others who were lost. This is also why my friends scattered afterwards. "

She hugged them all and told them that finding her beloved was first and foremost on her mind, but she wanted to be reunited with Sand and Torio first and she hoped they would come find her.


	17. Chapter 17

It was after midnight when there came a loud rapping at her door. Kyrie dragged herself out of bed, to be confronted with one of the Keep guards. He bowed.

"Milady Captain, we apologize for the intrusion at this late hour, but we have just caught an intruder. Turns out this fellow is none other then the traitor that sabotaged the gates back at the battle with the shadows. We have him in the prison at the moment as you have ordered but he keeps insisting on speaking with you. Milady Captain, shall we have him put to death or kept here and tried in a court of Neverwinter?"

Her tired mind couldn't register what he was saying. Could he mean Bishop?

"Is he a ranger? Did he have a grey wolf with him?"

The guard shook his head. "No animal. But he is indeed a ranger, he carried a bow and quiver with him. Wouldn't shut up about you either."

"Please let me dress. Then you will take me to him immediately."

He had his back to her when she walked into the prison confines. The light was poor, only a few torches on the wall were lit, but when he turned around she saw the brightness in his amber eyes. He moved quickly to the bars, his hands gripping the metal; she could see the discomfort ebbing from him in waves. He was _not_ one to be caged in any form.

"Kyrie...Kyrie...you are safe! I hoped you would come here. Please let me out."

She didn't move from her place by the door, suddenly unsure of her feelings, of him, of the situation both past and present. She felt her insides begin to tremble.

"You tried to walk into the Keep. You didn't stealth your way in."

"What makes you say that?"

"Bishop. If you didn't wish to be caught there is no way in the hells anyone could do so. Why did you come?"

She knew the answer before he put voice to it. His entire expression changed, and he put an arm out between the bars.

"Because I love you. Because you need me."

She moved a bit closer to him, closer to the torches, inches from his outstretched hand. She felt the trembling inside her grow stronger. Her desire to touch him, to hold him, to feel him near her growing with each heartbeat. She couldn't allow herself to indulge those feelings.

"Need you? Bishop, I am Lady of this Keep. Countless soldiers are at my command."

He withdrew his hand and stepped back, uncertainty suddenly flooding his face. He drew himself up, studying her carefully, like a hunter assessing his prey. His eyes were hooded, she could not see them to read what he was feeling. The ranger stepped close to the bars once more.

"Then look in my eyes and tell me that. Look at me and tell me you don't need me Kyrie, and I will leave this place and never return."

Kyrie's mind and her heart went to war.

_Casavir is dead, every evidence supports this! This man before you is alive and loves you more then he has the words for!_

_Casavir is not dead! Every fibre of your being knows that! You would have known without the shadow of a doubt if he were!_

_If Casavir were alive, why is there no shred of proof to back it up? What about the dreams and visions of him you no longer have?  
_

_Some things are known with the heart, and need not be seen with the eyes._

_What about everything you felt...and did... all that time in the woods with Bishop?_

_You made a vow, before Tyr! As long as I draw breath I will be at your side. If we are separated I will find you. If Tyr calls me home I will wait for you. My love for you is not subject to this body, this place. It is forever. I love you, Sir Casavir._

_So are you to spend the rest of your life searching, alone and unhappy, wearing a mantle of grief that can never heal, when you have a chance right here, right now to change that fate?_

_Remember Casavir's words to you, the night you conceived your child. Come what may, my heart, my soul, my life will always belong to you. You know hes not dead! Do you not love him enough to find him?_

Kyrie found the key and unlocked Bishop's cell door. He very nearly sprang from it, his revulsion at being caged barely contained. He was smiling at her, his beautiful amber eyes softly glowing. Her heart was beating so wildly in her chest she was sure he would hear it. His hand was on the side of her face, his head tilted slightly to kiss her when she stepped back.

"Bishop, our time together is past. Please...leave me to my life."

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Brother Ilisharan had never ridden so hard or so fast in his entire life. He didn't think himself even capable of doing what he had just done. He had expected things to go terribly wrong, that he, Yarron or the others would have been killed or captured. He was shocked at the nonchalance of the guards in what was reputed to be the worst prison in the Sword Coast. The man had not even asked who he was, or even spoke to him when he went down to the cells. In fact, the guard had been mildly drunk and was holding a conversation with a mangy looking cat. The cleric's greatest shock had been when he saw Sir Casavir.

_The cell resembled a cave, rough walls and floors with dripping water, puddles, and the smell of sewage. Manacles and chains hung from the back wall, and a cold brazier stood nearby. It took all of his resolve not to weep when he saw the once stalwart paladin lying sprawled facedown on the floor, his face battered and bloody. With deep sadness he saw that the tattered remains of the man's shirt and breeches were the same ones he had worn the day they collected him from the priory outside Neverwinter._

_Kneeling beside him, Brother Ilisharan spoke the gentle words of healing that would bring some measure of comfort to the knight. He stroked the dirty, bloody head, and as his pain was soothed, Casavir raised his head._

_"K...y..."_

_"Yes, my friend. Kyrie. I know. I have come to take you home."_

_The paladin didn't respond for a long time, but his hand gripped the edge of the Brother's robe. Ilisharan ran his hands over the man's broken body, bringing relief to the wounds, and allowing the deepest injuries to be healed. It was sapping the Brother's strength, and he reached into his robes and drew out a small vial of glowing red liquid. Holding his breath, he swallowed its contents down with a grimace, and felt his energy return. The liquid was foul, and burned terribly on the way down, settling in his stomach like an ember. It was not safe to partake of such an elixir too often, but this was a situation that warranted it like no other._

_Casavir began to stir, feeling the strength return to his limbs. He dragged himself up, sitting leaning on one arm. He tried to focus his eyes on the kind face of the Tyrrian cleric before him. Gently, Ilisharan dipped the edge of his robe in a nearby puddle and wiped the blood from the older man's eyes._

_"Hello, Sir Casavir. You might not remember me, my name is Ilisharan of the Tyrrian Brotherhood. I have come to take you away from this place."_

_"Ky...rie."_

_Ilisharan looked at him closely. It was possible that the paladin's memories were no longer intact. If that were the case, may Tyr forgive him, he would have to lie to get the man to come with him. He prayed quietly, asking the good god for help with his decision. His answer came from the lips of the paladin._

_"Y...you...Tyr has...sent...you..."_

_"Yes, that is true. Tyr has sent me to right a great wrong. Will you come with me, Sir Casavir?"_

_The paladin tried to rise, but was still too weak. Trying to keep it as simple as he could, he explained what they had to do to effect their escape. Casavir nodded, and lay back down on the ground, waiting._

_"Guard!" Brother Ilisharan called down the darkened hallway. There was no response and he yelled again. With a stream of curses the guard appeared, weaving more with drunkenness then he had before._

_"I need you to help me move the prisoner. Hes drowning in the water and I haven't the strength. Quickly now or his death will be on your head!" _

_The guard didn't move any quicker, but he seemed concerned at the threat. Ilisharan waited til the man bent over, and reaching an arm around the drunk man's neck, squeezed until he felt the body go limp. Oddly he felt no pity, no remorse as the guard hit the ground with a dull thud, his helmet clanking to the stones.  
_

_Moving to Casavir, Ilisharan flooded the knight's body with the last of his healing power. Casavir stood up, slowly, muscles unused to movement were stiff and unyielding. Brother Ilisharan proceeded to strip him down and switch their clothing. He was thankful the guard had a helmet, it helped disguise Casavir even better. Quickly, he brought out his knife and slashed a small wound across his own head under his hair. It bled out quickly and in abundance as head wounds do, and he smeared the blood on the guards face along with some mud and grunge from the ground. He allowed the wound to bleed freely down his face and he looked at Casavir._

_"Ready my friend? May Tyr guide our steps to freedom."_

_The knight put an arm around the smaller Brother's shoulders and allowed the cleric to assist him. He lowered his head to appear more injured then he now was and they struggled from the cell down the darkened hallway._

_Brother Ilisharan was surprised to see that the other 2 guards that were supposed to be on duty were nowhere to be seen. They stopped a moment and listened but all they heard were the moans of other prisoners._

_"Lets head towards the guard house and make sure there isn't anyone there who might stop us. We can make our way to the infirmary as we planned."_

_They passed the guardhouse which had one guard in it, being entertained by what appeared to be a female demon of some sort. The man looked up and when he saw the cleric supporting what appeared to be a guard, he waved them away and went back to his drinking and his demon._

_Ilisharan and Casavir moved as quickly as they could the last several feet towards the infirmary. When no one was spotted their either, they half walked half ran to the doorway leading to the tunnels and out into the city._

_At the end of the tunnel, Brother Ilisharan stripped off his robe and the two layers of clothing that he wore. One layer he gave to Casavir and helped the still weakened knight dress. He wiped the blood off his face and Casavir's as best he could, bundled up the guard's clothing into the robe, and they stepped outside to the stairway leading up to the city. Not stopping to look at anyone or anything, Brother Ilisharan moved quickly to the city gates, dumping the bundle into a pile of trash in an alleyway they passed._

_He saw one of Yarron's friends waiting with a merchant's cart and they moved to join him._

_"Alright, finally!" exclaimed the man. "Ive been trying to explain to this fool here that we have to get home before that witch of a wife of yours cuts off our balls for taking too long!" He indicated the bored gate guard. The guard waved his hands towards the cart._

_"What you got in there?"_

_"The usual cloth and dyes, some bits of pottery."_

_The guard made a face. "Bah, women's goods. Get ye gone from here."_

_They moved slowly off, repressing the urge to run at top speed._

_Yarron was in the trees off the beaten road, holding two horses. He looked at Brother Ilisharan, then at Casavir._

_"I hope your god absolves you of your sin, Brother. It appears that he had a hand in your good fortune today. Ride hard and don't look back, friends."_

_Casavir didn't say anything, his eyes were dull and lifeless, but he mounted up just the same._

_Brother Ilisharan embraced Yarron quickly, giving him and his family a blessing and asking him to let Melosia know that he had succeeded._

_Then he mounted and spurred his horse on as fast as the beast could run._

The small town they came to that night had no inn, but a farmer allowed them to sleep in his barn for the night. Casavir still had not spoken, and his dull, glazed eyes didn't stray more then a few feet in front of him.

"Do I know you, Brother?" he finally asked quietly as they settled into their blankets in the straw. "It feels as though I have met you before, but I do not recall the terms of that meeting. I know only that Tyr has sent you."

"I think we will need to speak long on it, Sir Casavir, but this is not the time nor the place for such a conversation. We must travel far from here. Suffice it to know that Tyr has indeed sent me."

Satisfied with that, Casavir didnt speak another word on the 30 day journey.


	18. Chapter 18

"Milady Captain, there is someone here to see you..." said the guard standing at attention in her doorway. Before she could respond, a figure ducked into the room beside him.

"Kyrie!" Torio ran to her, embracing her with great joy. Kyrie held onto her friend tightly, full of relief and delight at seeing her again.

"I so hoped that you would find your way here Tori! Did you come with your family?"

The guard, satisfied that things, as odd as they were, were normal, receded back to his post.

"No, but..."

Her words were cut off as Sand, a male dwarf and a female tiefling bounded into the room.

Kyrie ran to Sand with a cry of joy and threw her arms around him. He laughed with great mirth when he saw her and hugged her back tightly. The dwarf and the tiefling were laughing also, but Kyrie stopped and looked at them oddly. The girl pulled the dwarf back as he moved to embrace the paladin.

"Khelgar, she doesnt remember us..." the red eyes grew sorrowful.

"Kyrie? Captain?" asked the dwarf, his face still full of joy. "Ye remember ol' Khelgar! We met on the road and spent many a day knockin' heads left an' right! Remember those giants! Thought they could step on us and we showed em and got me Ironfist belt back!"

Kyrie knit her brows together trying to force her mind to remember. His face looked so hopeful, pleading. Suddenly, fragments of memories, always swimming just beneath the surface of her mind exploded upwards. Images, sounds, scents cascaded together and formed the missing parts of her life. Crying with happiness, Kyrie embraced Neeshka and Khelgar, dragging Sand and Torio to her again as well.

She wiped her eyes and stood back looking at her friends, her heart finally completing the puzzle. Sand put his arms around Torio and kissed her, and Kyrie gave an exclamation of surprise.

"Sand! Tori! You...you got together?"

Sand looked down and smiled, then looked at Torio, the love in his eyes blazing.

"Indeed we did. Kyrie, I love her so. I truly love her."

Kyrie felt the tears well up in her eyes again. Torio pulled herself away from Sand and put her arms around her friend and whispered in her ear.

"Ky...its going to be ok. Trust me...you will see its going to be alright."

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Kyrie was signing and stamping paper after paper when Sand crept into her office.

"My girl, I need to speak with you."

"Yes, I need to talk to all of you as well. Its time I was going."

Sand sat down in the chair opposite her and dragged a sheaf of papers over and began signing and stamping them with her. Kyrie sat back and watched him with amusement.

"You have some untapped talents my magical friend. Maybe I should have Kana delegate these tasks to you. Looks like you have my signature pretty well worked out there."

He looked up at her affectionately for a moment. She continued with her pile and for awhile they worked in silence.

"Sand," she said, "I only came back here to wait for you and Torio. I ...well you know I need to go find Casavir."

"Mmhmm. I know. You were right about him, Kyrie."

She looked up, her face ashen. "W...what? What do you mean I was right? He is alive? Where? Where is my Cassi?"

"Kyrie dear, tell me...do you still have those nightmares?"

"No, not for some time now. Actually since I ...well not since I left."

Sand opened and closed his hand a few times, creating and uncreating a small flame rose.

"Where did you go, Kyrie?"

"I was...I followed...I met..." she looked at him, a hopeless expression in her eyes. "I cant talk about it, Sand."

"Cant, or wont?" He saw so much in her eyes, but she was guarded, withholding it from him.

Kyrie shook her head. "Its too much, Sand. Just please understand, I dont wish to go into it with you just now. Please...tell me about Cassi! I _wont_ speak of anything else!"

Sand gently told her what he and Torio had learned. She was awestruck, crying as he shared the story that Torio had told him, and what they had learned since then. Sand didnt want to think on what it meant that she no longer had any nightmares of him, but Kyrie's heart was still secure in the knowledge that her beloved was alive. Sand gathered her into his arms and let her cry until she had no tears left. Tears of regret, sorrow, vindication and relief flowed freely from her until she was spent. Raising her head from his shoulder she looked at him, those sunset eyes on fire.

"Lets go get my Cassi and bring him home. I will tear that city apart with my bare hands if I need to."

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The stress of the entire situation became volatile several times over as they made their rescue plan. At times, no one agreed with anyone else's suggestions, and tempers flared, room doors were slammed shut and old friends refused to talk to one another. Each realized the gravity of the situation, and each believed none of the others did.

"I cannot use my magic, as I have tried to say a thousand times before, there are wizards who hold a magical barrier on the prison at all times!"

"Well we cant get rid of the wizards, so what else can we do?" quipped Neeshka. "Can we make them drop the barrier a different way?"

"Maybe...maybe there's a way." Torio stood behind the exasperated Sand and ran her hands through his hair.

"I could distract them. The Brotherhood has an...affinity for...women. Especially dancers."

Sand turned around to her. "Hells no! I am _not_ going to allow you to debase yourself like that in front of _those_ Luskan dogs."

"Althraion, I know you love me, but you cant stop me from doing this if there is a chance it will work. You need to get in there and teleport out with Casavir. The wizards need to be distracted at the very least to weaken their magical barrier enough for you to get through."

Sand's eyes nearly popped out of his face.

"What?! _Teleport out WITH Casavir?!_ What in the nine hells makes you think I can DO that, woman?"

Torio's own eyes grew larger and she looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"You mean you _cant_? I thought you could do _anything._"

Khelgar sat back and elbowed Neeshka.

"Ohh now _this _is gonna be good!"

Torio's beautiful, slightly tilted grey eyes looked innocently into Sand's blue ones, blinking slowly. The wizard's incredulity gave way to adoration, then he sighed.

"Well, I _can_ do it but it will take time! I must learn the proper verse for the spell, not to mention practicing it to ensure I know exactly how to do it when the time comes, the need to calculate precisely..." his words were cut off by a kiss from Torio.

Khelgar gave a short guffaw.

"Now ye see! That's how the lasses get their way every time! Jus' go on and blink those pretty eyes and we canna see left from right!"

Kyrie sat quietly in a patch of shadow, listening to them. The child inside her was growing, she felt her body changing to accomodate. Soon she would not be able to hide it anymore, in fact she herself noticed it was harder to hide the small bump. Layers of clothing and cloaks wouldnt do the trick for too much longer. They had to move on the rescue, and move quickly. Not only did each passing day increase the threat to Casavir's well being, but to her unborn child as well. She wouldnt be able to do battle very well even at this point. _Battle_. She hoped it would not come to that.

"Alright. This is what is going to happen."

All eyes turned to her and tongues fell silent.

"Sand, you have two days to learn and perfect the dual teleportation spell."

The wizard opened his mouth to protest, but a look from her silenced him. It was not his dear friend speaking to him, it was his Knight Captain. He nodded respectfully, his mind whirling.

"Torio. Are you sure that these wizards will allow themselves to be distracted by you? Will they not suspect anything if a woman suddenly shows up and entertains them?"

Torio shook her head. "That happens all the time. Someone trying to earn a few coppers for a meal will approach _anyone_ and try _anything_. I should know..." her voice went soft and tapered off. Kyrie gave her hand a comforting squeeze, and her friend smiled.

"Neeshka. We need some information regarding the guards in the prison confines. Primarily who is down there, who Sand could potentially come into contact with. Do you have contacts able to sell this information?"

The little rogue thought about it for a moment, then nodded.

"Khelgar, we will need some horses. Our beasts are warhorses and will attract far too much attention. I will ride Razelique, and bring Azrelaine for Casavir but I will not be going too close to the city. Its best that we not head in together, but enter through different gates. Im sorry Sand, but that means you and Torio as well. You can all ride in and stable the horses."

Kyrie looked around thoughtfully.

"We need a map of Luskan. That's my task. I will find a blueprint of the city."

Khelgar gave a grunt.

"How about you let _me_ get the map lassie, and _you_ get the beasts? I canna abide by those unpredictable creatures! I've me own two legs that does me right fine!"

Kyrie shook her head.

"No, Khelgar. You can have the stable masters handle the horses if you like, but you must procure them. Im sorry but you will have to ride to Luskan with us either on your own or with one of us."

Neeshka giggled. "You can ride with me, Khel. It will be fun."

The dwarf grumbled, but knew better then to argue with his Captain.

Kyrie headed for the door. She had to brief Kana, Katriona and Bevil, and they wouldnt be pleased with the entire plan. She suddenly felt very tired and rubbed her abdomen absently. They could wait. She needed to rest.

She didnt feel the eyes that followed her down the hall to her private chambers.

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Sand had never cussed more in his life then he did as he learned and practiced the dual teleportation spell. He got lumps, bumps and bruises from hitting the walls as he teleported around the Keep holding his cat, Jaral, making the minute calculations in his mind, then converting those numbers to the proper words. The spell was extremely taxing on his mind and body, and after a few rounds of it felt very ungraceful as he stumbled around looking for a place to rest.

One of the orphan children, Dory, came up to him and looked at him quizzically.

"Are you sick mister wizard?" she asked. "Should I get you some medicine?"

He looked at the child and closed his eyes.

"No, I am not _sick_. I am learning a new spell, and its tiring."

"Oh I know about that. I get tired when Deekin teaches me new things too. Know what helps?"

"I cant imagine," said Sand.

"This," said Dory, reaching into her pocket and extracting a small candy, offering it to him.

Sand shook his head, not wishing to consider just _where_ she had gotten it and _where _it had been.

"Oh, how lovely of you to share, sweetheart," said Torio, coming upon them. "Sand is very grateful and would love to eat it." She took the proffered treat and hugged the little girl.

"Now go to the kitchens, and tell Cook that Torio told you to get a slice of pie for yourself alright?"

The little girl clapped her hands with delight, her face lighting up in a wide grin.

"Thank you Lady Torio, thank you SO much!"

As she bounded away, Sand raised his head to make room for his love to sit, and put his head on her thigh. She kissed the tip of his nose and stroked his hair gently.

"You know, you will have to get used to children and their grubby little hands and gifts, Althraion. Our "little wizards" wont be born 300 years old and full of brains."

"That's what _you_ think, dear girl," he said, his eyes sparkling at the thought of a little family.

"Dont you _dare_ put growth spells on them! I want to enjoy them as tiny babies for as long as possible!"

Sand chuckled and reached up a still exhausted hand to stroke her face.

"You are safe from that, a'maelamin. There are no such spells. You know, I would never have thought I could get excited by the thought of children, but I think of it quite often now. Perhaps we should retire to our chambers and ... practice. What do you say, beloved?"

"As tired as you are, I doubt you will make it that far, but if you do...you know I say what I always say..." Torio slid off the little bench and knelt on the ground, kissing him deeply, passionately.

Barely able to contain his desire, Sand stood up and put his arms around her.

"Feeling brave, Torio dear?" he asked. "Hold on tightly to me..."

There was a displacement of air, and the two of them vanished.

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Kyrie put Razelique back in his stall, after riding him gently around the outside of the Keep a few times. Although it felt like most of her memories had returned, she still had no idea where the stallion had come from. The beast had an uncanny way of reading her mind, and the first hour they had spent together, all she had had to do was _think_ of switching gaits and the beast responded. She didnt know his name at first, and took it forgranted that her returning memory had simply filled that in for her.

He was a beautiful animal, large boned and strong, with a coat as black as her hair. His gaits were fluid, floating...another strange ability he had. There was next to no jarring in his movements despite his great size. If not for that, Kyrie doubted she would be able to ride him. Her growing baby was causing her some discomfort now, and she had taken to sitting or standing behind things to hide it. She was still not ready to share the information with her friends. Thank goodness her armor still did a good job of keeping the pregnancy hidden.

When she was alone, she talked to her child, which she was sure was a daughter. She told her about her father, about their great love for one another, and how happy he would be to learn about her. Those quiet moments made Kyrie feel connected to Casavir, and it did her heart good. She made plans for his return, summoned the best and most discreet Tyrrian clerics in the Sword Coast and paid them an exorbitant sum in exchange for their assistance. They were more then happy to move into the church quarters with Father Ivarr to await their call of duty. She praised Tyr in her devotions morning and evening for sparing her beloved's life, and often she was accutely aware of his presence and felt that he loved her.

As she passed the stalls at the far end of the barn where the work horses were quartered after the work day, she saw 4 new animals. Summoning the stable master, she questioned him.

"These new beasts, are they for the farms?"

"No Milady Captain. I thought you had requisitioned them. They are cart horses, from Luskan."

He produced a parchment.

"This was pinned to the door this morning when I got up. They were already here. I thought you had ordered them. I have got a messenger out there looking for you as we speak to ask if they are to be brought out to the farms."

Kyrie looked at the smaller, shaggier horses. Obviously this was Khelgar's doing. He _had_ been tasked with procuring their transportation, but why did he get 4? He had planned to ride with Neeshka. Also, why would he pin the requisition form to the stable door and not give it to the master himself?

Kyrie considered it for a moment longer, then decided it was not worth worrying over. If the dwarf had changed his mind and decided to ride on his own that was his choice. Perhaps it had been a late night and he wanted his ale and his bed. In any case, the horses were here and that was all that mattered.

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Khelgar, his heart heavy, walked into the barn.

"Laddie! Do ye know any good horse traders around here?" he asked the master. "I need me 3 little beasties, but not the big kind do ye know what I mean?"

The stable master pointed at the four new arrivals.

"These arrived this morning. The Captain said they are not bound for the farm, but for her own personal use. You will have to wait til they are moved since we dont have any more room here."

"Ahh the Captain was here then? Good enough for me lad. I can go back to my ale now!" He clapped the stable master on the shoulder and sauntered out, whistling. He was more then relieved that Kyrie had obviously changed her mind about having him handle the horse issue and done so herself.

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Neeshka spent far too much gold gleaning the information she did about the guards in the Luskan prison. Her informants were scared of the Brotherhood, insisting that they could be scryed at any given time. It took coin after coin to loosen their lips, but in the end she did get a good idea what to expect.

Returning to her chambers, she found several parchments pinned to her door. One was a list of names, the other was a series of blueprints of the city. One of the others must have decided to give her a hand, and she was grateful. The faster they could get Casavir, the faster they could forget all about that horrible place.

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Kyrie shut the door to the war room. She had donned her armor plate to hide her pregnancy; she knew everyone would assume she had been training with the guards and wouldnt find it odd to see the Knight Captain in full battle regalia occasionally.

"Well, it looks like we have everything we need. Horses, blueprints, information, and a wizard who can now teleport with another person. You all did very well, and I am so grateful for all your love and support."

She looked at her friends.

"Its too bad that not everyone was able to return and join us. I have grieved those we lost, and those whose hearts just couldnt return to this place."

The little druidess Elanee had hidden herself in Neverwinter Wood, and aside from the odd whispered sighting of a wood elf, it was obvious that she no longer wished to be part of the world at large. Kyrie didnt know if the druidess would ever hear that she had not died in the fall of the Vale. Elanee had spent many years watching Kyrie and the paladin hoped that if word ever reached her deep in the wood that she would venture to come say hello.

The little bard Grobnar, who had regaled them with his sometimes silly, sometimes happy songs had died trying to save his precious Construct. The lonely gnome had fallen head over heels in love with the farmer Shandra Jerro, and Shandra's death had hit him so hard that in his grief he had bonded with the Construct. He treated it as a beloved pet instead of a deadly war machine, and in the end trying to save this "pet" cost him his life.

The strange Githzerai cleric Zhaeve had vanished without a trace after the battle with the King of Shadows. No one had seen her leave the Vale, and no one had seen her die. Kyrie accepted that her mission was over and she had returned to the Astral Plane, to her strange world where thought became reality.

As for the warlock Ammon Jerro, nothing was heard from him either. No one had seen his death and he had not contacted anyone since the war. Perhaps he _had_ died, perhaps he had gone off to a far away place to grieve in solitude...or perhaps he had been swallowed up by the Nine Hells or the Abyss to fullfill the contracts he had made with the demons and devils. Kyrie didnt know, but for his help she would be always grateful.

As for the sorceress Qara, her mentally unstable mind had convinced her to join Black Garius, and she had been swiftly killed by Sand.

"There is no point in delaying this journey. We...well we are as ready as we ever will be. I suggest everyone take an early rest, for tomorrow we leave for Luskan."


	19. Chapter 19

They stumbled and fell, breathless with exhaustion and pain into the small woodland clearing. Torio held her arm where a jagged knife wound bled mercilessly into the surrounding fabric, soaking it. Blood mixed with tears ran down her face and her auburn hair was matted with it. She lay in a pile of leaves, fighting the sobs that rose up in her chest.

Khelgar collapsed near her, cursing a dwarven blue streak as he broke off and pushed free an arrow that had pierced the flesh of his leg.

Moments later, Neeshka crept in, limping, where she had barely dodged a vicious blow from a mace which would have shattered her leg and doomed her. She wiped sweat and tears from her crimson eyes and looked around at her friends.

A displacement of air signalled the arrival of the wizard, and he very nearly fell over as he materialized. He was panting, trying to suck in as much air as possible, a head wound bleeding down the side of his face. His hair was in disarray, and he swiped at it as his vision cleared. He saw his beloved lying on the ground and stumbled over to her side. The blood he saw all over her frightened him and he ran his hands across her body, looking for the wounds.

"Torio...oh gods, Torio..."

He remembered that she had shoved him out of the way as a Luskan slashed out with a weapon of some sort...knife? sword? and taken the worst of it. He had been able to make short work of that fool but not quick enough to save Torio from injury. She had fought like a cornered wild animal, and in the short time they had been fighting to free themselves from Luskan, he saw shades of what she had once been, saw the extent to which she had had to learn to survive life in the slums of that cursed place. It wrenched at his heart to think she had been willing to return in order to help her friend. How wrong he had been about her, how grateful to get a chance to make it up to her.

He saw her try and lift her head up to look at him, and forced a smile.

"There you are my love. We will have all this fixed up in no time."

She was beyond relieved to see him, and with a deep painful sigh fell back into the leaves, eyes closed.

They had sat or lain, not speaking, catching their breath, working through the shock of the attack. Torio eventually sat up, allowing Sand to tear strips off her skirt to bind her wound.

They had not been able to retrieve their mounts, and had had to run, injured as they were, as fast and as far as they could. They had been pursued for awhile, and Khelgar had taken the arrow to his leg, but eventually the Luskans gave up on them. Chasing a bunch of dissenters didnt interest them.

A grey wolf bounded into the midst of them, and right behind him, limped the ranger Bishop. He knew he had promised Kyrie to leave if she commanded him to, but his heart wouldnt let him. He had stayed, watching her, loving her silently. He stood in the shadows and saw her lonliness, her grief, her despair. He heard the news that Casavir was alive and imprisoned, heard the bits and pieces of their plan to free him from Luskan. In no way would his conscience allow him to stand by and let them go it alone, so he had helped, unbeknownst to them, and followed them to Luskan. He was glad he did, for their mess of a plan had _not _gone very well.

His eyes were glittering, cold and hard as he surveyed the would-be rescuers. Disgust marred his features and he shook his head slowly.

"What. In the nine hells. WAS THAT?" he shouted the last, fury erupting in his voice.

Four shocked faces stared at him in disbelief. A thousand questions raced through their collective minds, but the adrenaline from the battle dropping off them and the severity of some of their wounds taxed what was left of their energy and senses.

"Am I seein' the walkin' dead? What are ye on about, traitor?" Khelgar stood up, facing him. Injured or not he wasnt about to take any guff from him of all people after what they had just been through. They might not have the strength to fight but the dwarf would be damned to allow him to walk all over them.

"That travesty you dared to call a rescue!" yelled the ranger.

"Travesty? I didnt see _you_ in there helping us. Oh wait, that wouldnt happen would it, Bishop? You were in there probably trying to get us killed for the THIRD time! I was happier when I thought you were _dead_!" Neeshka stood beside Khelgar, favoring her leg, her tail swishing angrily from side to side. Bishop gristled at her.

"That's exactly the point! You didnt SEE me! Oh I was there, demon. I was in there emptying my quiver into the Luskan dogs that were about to slice your throat, which wouldnt have been happening if they hadnt SEEN you either!" he was yelling, waving his arms. He turned to Torio, his eyes narrowed.

"And YOU, _ambassador_. Luskan's most famous person. You THOUGHT you could WALK into that city, much less attract attention to your bloody self and no one would recognize you? WHAT in the hells kind of moronic thought process spawned that? GAH!" He raised his bow and nocked an arrow, pointing it straight at her.

"Your stupidity almost cost every one of us our lives! I should kill you right here and save us ALL from suffering you anymore!"

The invisible blast knocked Bishop straight off his feet. With an involuntary yelp he slammed into a tree and slid down. Sand teleported straight in front of him, despite the fact he could barely even keep himself upright. Bishop had never seen the wizard enraged before, and seeing the look in his eyes he hoped he never would again.

"Dont. You. Ever. EVER. threaten Torio, or any of us, AGAIN, or by Mystra I swear to you, you shall wish for the Wall and oblivion and _not_ be indulged."

He teleported back to the others, taking the battered Torio in his arms. After a moment, Bishop struggled to his feet, and walked back to where his bow lay on the ground and picked it up. His anger sated, he scratched at Karnwyr's ears as the wolf sat beside him, leaning against his leg.

"He wasnt there, was he," Bishop said matter-of-factly. The assembled group all looked at one another. In their haste to retreat from the city, no one had yet stopped to realize that part of their plan hadnt quite worked out. They looked at the wizard, and sadly Sand shook his head.

"I teleported into the _raknah_ during all that chaos. With the wizards busy with Torio their magic field was weak. There were four empty cells. Cloaked, I saw two guards inside one of them." He looked at his friends each in turn, sadness in his blue eyes.

"And...?" prompted Bishop, not liking what he was hearing.

"They were grumbling about their being ordered to clean out the cell."

_The smell was horrendous. Sand did his best not to breathe too deeply or too quick. He doubted the dull minded guards would sense him, but just the same he stood motionless in the shadows, the magical cloak around him hiding him from prying eyes. His own vision was hampered by the cloak; it was as though he were looking through a monochromatic reflecting pool, everything ebbing and flowing around him, devoid of all color. He ventured a few steps forward, and hearing nothing continued on down the darkened corridor, the few torches remaining casting a very poor light._

_"Why in the 'ells do we have to clean this damn cell?" the coarse voice of a guard assaulted his ears._

_"Cuz that cursed paladin got himself killed is why. Idiot drowned in a puddle." came the reply._

_"Some 'ero 'e turned out to be...ne'er lasted 'alf a year. If that's the best Neverwinter 'as for 'eroes I say we go in and take that city."_

_"Yeah."_

_The icy vice grip that squeezed Sand's heart almost made him break his concentration and drop his cloak. He suddenly needed to be as far away as possible from this place. Chanting softly he teleported himself out..._

There was a heavy, oppressive silence.

"C...Casavir is really dead?" Neeshka's eyes were large and her voice trembled.

Sand nodded, resting his cheek against Torio's matted hair where she had buried her face in his neck.

"Where is Kyrie?" asked the little tiefling softly.

Bishop backed away into the shadows, and they heard his barely perceptible footfalls as he ran off into the darkness. They all breathed a collective sigh of relief and hoped that was the last they would see of that monster.

"She was at the back of the battle durin' the fightin'" said Khelgar. "Mayhap she didnt want to get seen, what bein' all famous and all, and I yelled at her to get out. Gave her the code I did. She woulda got away faster then us I imagine."

"Im sure not looking forward to telling Kyrie about Casavir." said the tiefling softly, wiping her eyes and streaking blood and tears across her face. "I guess...lets go home. Im too wired to sleep here and I dont feel safe."

"No worries, tiefling." said the dwarf. "They canna be bothered with us. They saw Torio there, they wouldna suspect her of havin' anythin' to do with the paladin. We didna start fightin' til everyone else did, and street fights in Luskan are always goin' on. Leastwise the fool that saw her got me axe in his head and wont be gettin' up te tell the tale."

"Still, I dont feel safe. Im going home, alone if need be. We need to find Kyrie and I bet shes going to ride hell bent for leather back to the Keep and thats where Im going to be."

Sand smoothed the hair back from Torio's face. She looked very pale, her eyes unnaturally bright. He didnt have the strength to teleport himself and her anywhere, and she didnt look able to walk a single step let alone the great distance to the Keep.

"Im sorry, Neeshka, but Torio is badly injured and she cant travel." Sand lowered his beloved gently to the ground, and sat down himself, his back against a large rock. She lay her head on his lap and he stroked her matted hair.

Khelgar moved over near the elf and sat down himself, his back against the same rock, his blood stained axe on his lap. Neeshka sighed resignedly, her tail twitching in agitation, and not wanting to be out in the open, curled up in front of Sand and Khelgar.

In sorrow and pain, the friends fell into a fitful sleep.

_-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

Kyrie rode to the outer edge of the Keep as though pursued by the nine hells. The stallion was covered in foam, his nostrils flaring, the other horse she ponied behind her in the same condition. Having been separated from her friends during the unexpected battle in Luskan, Kyrie knew Sand had gone into the prison with the intent of retrieving her beloved. When all of the hells broke loose, she had gotten shoved to the fringes of the battle. She had heard Khelgar yell at her to go to ground, their code for "get out". Under no circumstances did she wish to engage in combat in her delicate condition, but when the fighting started her blood boiled. She had backed out of the city by way of the chaos and the shadows and headed for the horses.

She had waited for the others to show up, but since their original plan had gone awry the backup was that she get out of there and they would meet up at the Keep. Sand was confident that he had enough potions to stabilize Casavir if need be and give himself enough boosts to make it back. He would be a terribly sick mess when he arrived, but he _would _arrive. Elixirs and potions were not something to take in abundance if one valued their stomach contents.

Riding wasnt exactly a comfortable endeavor, but Razelique's remarkably smooth gaits made it much easier on her body. She knew once Casavir was safely ensconced in the Keep she would not need to ride until after their child was born. Kyrie hoped that the clerics she had on standby would be able to patch him up, the truth was she had no idea how badly hurt he would be. _I beg you good Tyr, protect him so I may look upon his face once more_, she had prayed over and over on the ride back.

As Kyrie rode up to the gates her eyes fell on her friends. The fact that they had arrived before her was a testimony to Sand's vast power. He looked pale, shaky and exhausted. She thanked the gods none of them had been killed or worse, left behind in Luskan. They stood awkwardly, dirt and blood still on their faces and their armor, no doubt watching for her. Neeshka and Khelgar each favored a leg, Sand had dried blood and cuts on his face, and Torio was bruised, cut and held a bandaged arm.

As she drew nearer, Kyrie saw the look in their eyes. Sand and Torio exchanged glances and stood just that much closer. Neeshka put an arm around the dwarf's shoulders. Kyrie's eyes scanned the area for signs of a wolf, or even Bishop, but there was none. _You did tell him to leave you to your life, _ she reminded herself._ For once, he probably did exactly as you told him to._

She slowed the horses to a walk, and they hung their heads, stretching their necks and backs. Kyrie's eyes never left Sand's as she halted before him. Her voice was soft and shaky.

"Is...is he ok? Are the clerics working on him? Althraion?"

Sand looked up at her, his sky blue eyes telling her a story she didnt want to hear. She shook her head.

"N...no. Not dead."

"Kyrie...we were wrong. He wasnt there."

"He _was_ there! The intel cant have been wrong...where is he now?"

_Intel! People can be wrong, but not my heart! My heart wouldnt lie to me! I saw the visions, I SAW my Cassi in that prison! I know he was there! _Her heart screamed at her.

No one responded, they just looked sorrowfully at her, letting her mind fill in the gaps their words could not. Finally Torio stepped closer.

"I was here, after the battle with the King of Shadows, when the shadows receded and we knew...we knew you had prevailed. I was here for the...the funeral cortege, it was beautiful, Ky. Yours...and Casavir's."

Torio looked out past the Keep to a hillside, and raised her good arm and pointed.

"The people wanted you both buried where they could _all_ come and pay their respects, not just the nobility. Lord Nasher refused to allow your burial there but he...but he allowed Casavir's. Its...its a beautiful stone, Kyrie, Casavir would have loved it on that hillside overlooking this Keep that he loved so much, and being visited by all these people he swore to protect."

Kyrie was staring at her friend, her eyes hollow, as if hearing a story about a man and his goat cart. Her head turned to that hillside, and the devastation in her eyes when she turned momentarily back to them caught the breath in all their throats.

Sand lay a hand on her calf, and made a decision to spare his beloved friend any more pain.

"Kyrie...we dont think he was ever there, in that prison. We were wrong, the rumors were wrong, thats the whole of it. Lord Nasher had him buried with much ceremony up on that hill after the battle. It...if it has to be this way, at least we know he died saving us all. That is a legacy Casavir would have been honored to leave us with."

Kyrie knew her friend was lying to her. Lying to her to spare her any more pain, as if that were even possible.

Kyrie side stepped the stallion away from them and turned towards the hill.

She saw the stone from the bottom of the hillside, up there on the rock wall. She saw the scatterings of flowers, gifts of love from the people Casavir had died saving. Her breath came in short gasps, and she slid from Razelique's back, trembling. It was only a short distance up the hillside but to Kyrie it looked like 100 miles. Torio came along behind her, slowly, gingerly holding her injured arm. Sand put his arms around Torio from behind, holding her close, stopping her from moving towards Kyrie.

"Beloved, this is something she needs to do on her own. This is Kyrie's journey." he whispered to her.

"I know, Althraion...but this is horrible. Gods, this is a nightmare."

Neeshka limped up slowly behind them, Khelgar beside her. His wound bled fiercely, leaving a trail of blood, but he paid it no mind despite the pain. _It must never be said that an Ironfist was a wimp_, he thought to himself. He stood sorrowfully beside the tiefling, who had her hand affectionately on his shoulder again. He looked up at the little demon who had won his respect and his friendship and was glad that she was there.

The warhorse Razelique, the strange stallion she had somehow aquired, who would normally follow Kyrie, didnt move as the Knight Captain walked slowly up the hill, one hand on the hilt of her sword, her eyes on the terrible grave marker above her. _This isnt Cassi_, she told herself. _You know he is not dead. You feel it in your heart, your soul. Hes not gone. This is a mistake. _Step by slow, tortured step Kyrie de Chantraine climbed that hill. She reached the rock wall and saw the beautiful crest of Tyr on the stone, the blood red roses, the seal of Neverwinter, and there on the lower part of the marker she saw his name: _Casavir de Chantraine._

She fell to her knees, stabbing her sword into the earth between the rocks, a gesture of supplication to her beloved Tyr. Her other hand slammed across her midsection, feeling the hard metal of her armor.

"Caaasavir!" her friends below heard the almost unearthly screaming wail tear from her lips.

"NO! No! Cassi!" the screaming made Torio turn with a sob and bury her face in Sand's shoulder as he held her tight, tears threatening to fall from his own eyes. Khelgar turned his head into Neeshka's side, and the tiefling closed her eyes as her own tears flowed free.

Kyrie fell onto the rocks, then crawled up on the stone, touching it, stroking it, as if doing so would connect her to her soul mate, her paladin, her love. She was alternately hysterical with grief, clawing and tearing at the stone, crying out his name, and that of her god, Tyr, or sobbing in a heap on the foot of the stone. Breathless, her face wet with tears and dirt she screamed his name once more and collapsed in a sobbing mess.

The friends moved towards her when a grey and brown figure suddenly ran past them.

"I got her...just wait. I got her." said Bishop, stopping and holding an arm out at the group of them.

"What in the nine hells? Bishop!" Sand stared at him. He was sure they had seen the last of the ranger in the forest that night. The wizard raised his hands and prepared an incantation. Torio's face registered complete shock.

Bishop sprinted up the hill to Kyrie and fell at her side, Karnwyr beside him, trying to lick her face. Sand began chanting a fire spell, fierce anger now on his face, when Torio suddenly grabbed his hands and pointed.

Bishop had gathered Kyrie into his arms, his cheek against her forehead, her hair disheveled and sticking to her face. Her cries softened as he rocked her, saying something only she could hear. Kyrie raised one arm and put it around Bishop's neck and held onto him, occasionally kicking out a leg as she continued to cry piteously.

Sand glanced at Torio in puzzlement. Bishop? _With_ Kyrie? What? How? Yes, he had said he assisted in the battle with the Luskans but it was a mystery why. The mystery deepend as they saw Bishop put out an arm towards them and beckon them over with his hand while he rocked and held Kyrie. They ran to her side, pushing the need to deal with him aside for the moment.

"Kyrie, Kyrie..." murmured Bishop softly to her. "Im here, I got you." He looked up at Torio and pointed at her then at Kyrie's armor. She gave him a hard look but he raised his eyebrows at her, and when she continued to stare at him mouthed the words_ 'take it off'_. Torio put her feelings about the ranger aside and started one handedly digging for the straps that held the armor in place and piece by piece began stripping it off her friend.

"Kyrie, look you arent alone. Karnwyr is here. Sand, Torio, Neeshka and Khelgar." Bishop rocked her gently, holding her tightly against him, the cotton shirt she wore beneath the armor soaked with sweat. Kyrie keened and wailed, devoid of energy, clutching Bishop as though he were a lifeline.

Torio curled herself against Kyrie, her head on her upper arm. "Ky...Im here for you. Me and Sand. We're going to take care of you."

Sand gently stroked Kyrie's leg, the only part of her he could reach after shoving the wolf aside. He spoke soft words of comfort, trying to ignore the sharp rocks digging into his own painful body.

Neeshka and Khelgar crawled up.

"Hey lass, we're all here for ye. This is a family aye. A family that sticks together and takes care of one another." said the dwarf gently.

Bishop cleared the damp hair away from Kyrie's face and looked down at her in his arms. His amber eyes filled with love and compassion, and he thanked the gods again for her, for being able to _see _her, hold her, comfort this woman he had loved for so long. Torio saw the look in his eyes, and as much as she hated him, she recognized that look. It was the same way Sand gazed at her. Something had changed in Bishop. Something very major.

Kyrie lay limply, sobbing, moaning, staring up at him, the sunset eyes red and swollen. His amber eyes locked onto hers and he started softly singing to her, smiling softly, his gaze not wavering for a moment. Sand had never seen him smile before, and would have thought it not possible were he not witnessing it for himself. Like Torio, he had seen the change in the ranger's eyes when he looked at the little paladin. It was not a look he was accustomed to seeing on him, and he viewed it with suspicion.

Kyrie raised a hand and stroked the side of Bishop's face. Despite the pain in her eyes, there was something else too...if they didnt know better they all would have said it looked like love. Sand and Torio exchanged confused glances but didnt say anything. Answers would be forthcoming later on, of that Sand would make sure.

Bishop arranged Kyrie in his arms and stood up, holding her very close, still singing softly. She held onto him, burying her face in his neck as he walked slowly down the hill towards the horses. Karnwyr followed, whining very softly. Torio picked up the bits of armor and Khelgar retrieved the sword, attaching it all to Kyrie's horse, leading the beast behind the ranger. Torio took the reins of Casavir's warhorse, and walked beside Sand several paces behind Razelique and Khelgar, Neeshka bringing up the rear crying quietly as Bishop carried their Captain and friend back to the Keep.


	20. Chapter 20

There was a small group gathered in the war room when Bishop finally walked in, escorted by a guard. He had settled Kyrie in her bed, undressed and washed her and plaited her hair. He gave her a drink of hot tea, the leaves of which were used to induce sleep. The tea was safe for her unborn child, of that he had made doubly sure. She had not protested nor resisted his efforts, but she had put her arms around the wolf and not let go. Karnwyr had leaped up onto the bed beside her, his big grey head on the pillow. Bishop had sat beside the bed, in an uncomfortable chair, stroking her hair until the tea claimed her and she fell asleep. The wolf hadnt moved when he headed for the door. He knew he would have to face the others sooner or later, and figured he best get it over with. He carried no weapons with him.

"Now then laddie, ye better start talkin' before I get me waraxe out and whack ye where ye stand." Khelgar stood in front of Bishop, anger on his usually amiable features.

Bishop nodded to the dwarf, but his words were directed at Sand.

"Sand, dont waste your time trying to burn or flay me. I have a protection spell on me so please just listen to what I have to say. If you all love Kyrie you will hear me out."

"I doubt anything you have to say now or ever will have any any bearing on whether or not I eventually burn or flay you, traitorous one. Your threat towards Torio that night pretty much assured that you will experience one or the other before too long." Sand watched him with narrowed eyes, his hand entwined tightly with Torio's.

"Everyone here heard that you died in the fortress. Even I cant cheat death Bishop, so what gives?" Neeshka flicked her tail in agitation, eyeing him suspiciously.

"You are right. I did die. Tyr brought me back."

"Ye dont believe in the gods and ye want us to believe that the _good_ god brought ye back? Come now laddie ye dont think we are smarter then all that eh?"

Bishop looked down at the floor, feeling vulnerable without his wolf or any of his weapons. If he wanted Kyrie's friends to take him seriously he had to make the necessary sacrifices. Making amends for what he had done in the past might not be something he could ever accomplish, but for the sake of the woman he loved he had to at least achieve tolerance with them.

"Kyrie spared me... well she asked Tyr to spare me and he did. However, he took my sight and threw me in the wilderness with only Karnwyr as penance for my wrongs. I was lucky to have even him. I was dying out there. She found me but something had taken her memories, so she didnt remember who I was at first. I...I treated her badly, _terribly_ in fact...but she forgave me and taught me to survive out there. I fell in love with her all over again, and Tyr's condition was if she can forgive me my betrayals and love me just the same, only her healing could fix my sight."

Sand snorted. "Kyrie? _Love_ you? I hardly think that would ever happen, Bishop. Forgiving you, I can maybe be convinced to swallow that little tidbit, knowing Kyrie as I do, but as for loving _you_ of all people, I highly doubt it. Your story is starting to annoy me in more ways then I can count."

Neeshka twirled her daggers as she watched him.

"You said you fell in love with her _again_. If you really loved her before, how could you betray her the way you did? And _twice_ for that matter!"

"I was a fool. An ignorant, scared fool."

Bishop's amber eyes took him in, and each one of them in turn. He stood with his arms hanging by his side, knowing he faced an uphill battle that might never be won with these people. They had every reason to hate him and wish him gone...in more then one way. But he loved Kyrie with all his heart, and he knew she loved him as well, in her own way. After what had happened to her, she would need him more then ever, even if she couldnt accept that yet. It was his debt to her, one that he would gladly pay this time to stay by her side.

"I didnt remember how I had gotten blinded for quite awhile. We spent a long time together out there, in the wilds. We got...very close, it was... it was good. When _my_ memories returned, so did hers. I remembered what had happened to me and she remembered who I was and what I had done. She was angry and hurt, leaving me in the field to fend for myself and rightly so. Next morning I woke up and I could see again. She must have come back while I slept and healed me. I tracked her here and Ive been watching her ever since, I overheard your arguments as you set up the rescue. I was the one who left the list of the guards and the blueprints on Neeshka's door. It was me who left you all those horses. I was going to do some reconnaissance on the prison but when I came back you had left already. I followed you all there and yes, I helped you fight the Luskans. I took a few arrows too, make no mistake. The bottom line is that I love her, and she loves me."

"She doesnt love _you_. She loves Casavir. You were there at the stone." Torio crossed her arms, giving him an appraising look.

"She didnt _remember_ Casavir during our time together. I couldnt see her, I didnt know who she was, we fell in love with each other just the same. She loves me for who I am _now_."

"I think you can take your wolf, and your bow, and leave now, Bishop." Neeshka's voice came from behind him, but Bishop didnt turn.

"You want me to leave, Neeshka? Sand? Torio? Khelgar? When she's as hurt and broken as she is now? You want her to lose another person she loves?"

"We _want_ her to be with family who loves her. Not someone who betrayed her and tried to have her killed. Twice, I say again." Neeshka's voice moved to the other side of him. He refused to follow the sound, preferring to look disconsolately down at the ground, and occasionally at one of the others.

"Torio, does she, does Kyrie, care for you?" Bishop turned his amber eyes on the former Luskan ambassador.

"Shes like a sister to me."

"Odd isnt it?...since you tried to set her up for murder and have her executed. Yet here you are."

Torio was silent and looked away.

"Im not asking any of you to forgive me. Thats for the gods. Im asking you to talk to Kyrie and ask her what _she_ wants."

"Never thought I would hear ye talk about gods, ranger. I dont trust ye and I never will. Thats fer sure, but I need to hear the lass's words on this first. _Before_ I cleave ye." Khelgar walked away and sat down at the table.

"I am of the same opinion. I have no interest in trusting you, forgiving you nor having you around. However, I do agree that we should speak to Kyrie first." said Sand, moving to sit beside Khelgar. "I say this only because I saw how Kyrie reacted to you when she saw you on the hill. If not for that, I can promise you that we would not be speaking right now. Rather, we would be cleaning up what was left of your remains from the ground."

"If Kyrie says she doesnt want you here Bishop, you wont be leaving here alive." The tiefling moved out of the shadows behind him and she too took a seat.

"Fair enough," responded the ranger.

Torio didnt move. She looked long and hard at Bishop. "If Kyrie forgave _me_ for what I did to her, to all of you...then I will decide on Bishop once I hear what she has to say. Her word means the earth to me. I wont do anything to hurt her. If she truly loves you Bishop, then I will need to deal with that."

He nodded to her, grateful. "Thank you, Torio. That means a lot to me." Bishop looked at them across the room. "There is another thing you all need to know. Kyrie is with child."

Four shocked faces raised their eyebrows at him, speechless.

"Before you ask, no the child is not mine. She is roughly 4 months along. The child is Casavir's, conceived the night before the great battle."

"How would ye know somethin' like that laddie, thats awful privvy information eh?"

"Like I said, I have been watching over her, I know things. It was the only time she and Casavir had ever...been together. This child you should also know was conceived in wedlock. Kyrie and Casavir were married by the Tyrrian Brotherhood outside Neverwinter 3 days before that battle. She is, in truth, Lady de Chantraine. Before you throw all the denials you have at me, they did not share the information as they thought they wouldn't survive the battle, and she wanted to have a ceremony with all of you if they did make it through. They did it for themselves, for their god."

Sand was beside himself. All of these intimate details of her life, stolen by this heartless traitor. What manner of sorcery was this? What was the ranger up to now?

"If you say you know all of these..._things_, what was the name of the cleric who performed this ceremony? I was at this Tyrrian Brotherhood, as was Khelgar and Neeshka."

Bishop looked at him long and hard. "Brother Ilisharan."

They all looked at each other, then back at Bishop. Sand opened his mouth to speak when a scream rang out from the corridor.

"Kyrie!" Sand teleported from the war room, Bishop running to her room.

Sand reappeared at Kyrie's bedside. She looked at him in confusion, face wet with fresh tears.

"Sand! Where is Bishop? Bishop!"

Bishop was through the door and at her side in an instant, kneeling beside the bed and taking her into his arms. He stroked her hair and spoke softly to her as she clung to him. Kyrie looked into his eyes, then lay down with her head on the edge of the bed, her hair trailing onto him.

"Bishop, dont leave me. Dont leave me alone!" her voice was desperate. He sat on the floor with his back against the night table.

"I wont leave you, Kyrie. I wont ever leave you until you tell me to. Im yours, I have always been yours."

He looked up at Sand, the amber eyes free of any guile. _Look at me, _his mind pleaded with the wizard. _If you have the ability to see so many things, see that I truly love her. _Sand wrinkled up his nose for a moment then turned on his heel. He paused at the door.

"Take care of her, Bishop. If you hurt her, or Casavir's child, I shall do things to you that would make the Luskans proud."

Bishop waited til they had left, and he locked the door, speaking quietly to Kyrie the entire time. He stripped off his clothing, and tucked Kyrie back into the bed. He climbed in beside her and lay on his back, pulling her onto his chest.

"I love you, Kyrie. I love you with all my heart. I never want to be parted from you, not ever."

She burrowed into his chest, smelling his scent, feeling his skin.

"Dont leave me, Bishop. I dont want to lose you, too."

"I wont. I will take care of you....of you..._and _your child."

"Promise me!" she begged.

Bishop squeezed her tight, his eyes closed. The thought of such a promise terrified him. What if he couldnt do it? What if raising this child was more then he could handle? The old urge to bolt and run made his limbs twitch, but his heart held him fast. He was so much in love with Kyrie, he would do anything to stay at her side.

"Yeah, I...I promise."

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The following day, he took her outside to the small courtyard garden. Karnwyr had made himself at home there, snoozing happily in a sunspot. Kyrie could no longer button up her breeches properly so Bishop had cut holes in them so she could lace them up instead. She had stood, looking down at her gently swollen belly.

He had knelt in front of her, and gently put a hand on it, then rested his cheek against it. Tears fell from her eyes, and she told him how she wished Casavir was alive to experience the miracle they had created. In the same breath she told him that for that wish to be true, she would have to have a life without _him_, and that hurt her terribly also. Bishop had expressed his genuine regret at having hurt her so many times when they had first met, especially since she had been with child already then. The idea that he could have caused her to lose something so precious to her, tore at his heart and he cursed himself inwardly, and often.

Bishop had comforted her, then taken her out and lay a soft, thick blanket down on the grass for her beneath a tree. He propped himself against it and she lay her head down on his thigh, while he stroked her hair gently.

"Your friends want me to leave, Kyrie," he said softly. She grabbed his hand and pulled it to her lips.

"You arent going to leave me, you promised," she reminded him. "I need you, Bishop."

"I did promise. I love you, Kyrie. Do you know that?"

She sat up and put her arms around him, giving him a tender kiss. Her voice was quiet now, it lacked the fire and strength it once had. Her words seemed almost hollow and wooden. "I know you do. I know you loved me a long time ago too, Bishop."

"I did. And I was an idiot to treat you the way I did. I was so scared, I didnt know what love was and I didnt know how to show it. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you let me."

She lay back down with a soft, sad sigh, and was still there when Sand came into the courtyard. She felt Bishop stiffen up at the sight of him.

"Bishop," called Sand. "Remove yourself from this place. I wish to speak to the Captain alone."

The tone of his voice made Kyrie sit up and face him. "Sand, please dont talk to Bishop that way. It hurts me. He was here for me when I had no one else, and he has proven himself to me."

She looked at Bishop with a smile and whispered to him. "Its ok, you can go. I know I will need to speak to all my friends in turn and help them understand how things have changed between us. You wont have to leave here, this is _your_ home now too."

Bishop stroked her cheek gently, then stood up and strode from the courtyard with a nod to Sand.

Sand sat down beside her and looked deep into her sunset eyes.

"What has he done to you, girl? Hmm? You dont seem to remember what evil he foisted on us all those months ago."

"I remember everything, Althraion. Every sordid detail. But Tyr has also given me an opportunity to see beyond the acts, to the heart. I did that for Torio...and apparently so did you. You cant only forgive some people and not others. Bishop has come to terms with his darkness. He deserves a second chance just like your Torio did. What if I refused to forgive her too? Then you would never have had this time to be with her. Forgiveness is a great gift, Sand."

He sighed and dropped his head back, looking up at the foliage on the tree.

"Forgiveness is one thing, Kyrie, but that man had the nerve to tell us that you _love _him. I have watched your interaction with him and as much as I do not wish to believe those words, I am seeing that perhaps this is true. Is it?"

"I do love Bishop very much. Our time together, when I was devoid of my memories, showed me who he really is. Beneath the hard, cold exterior is a frightened, cowed, lonely man who is surprisingly gentle. Just like Torio, just like you, just like Casavir...all of us. We all want the same thing in this life, Sand. Love. We just all dont go about it the same, or right way. Can you understand that?"

Sand considered her words, then nodded slowly. "I can respect your wishes, but I cannot bring myself to trust him. I am concerned that this is just another ploy of his. Might even be something simple as having his way with you before he vanishes again."

"Althraion, I made love to Bishop once when we were together. If that was his only motivation then he would be long gone by now. I truly believe his love is genuine. He has promised to stay with me and raise Casavir's baby together. You know that Bishop could never have made any such promise before. He viewed every angle of a relationship as a set of chains to be fought. Not to mention this child...the child of his mortal enemy."

She eyed Sand carefully. "Oh...If you hadnt been told, I suppose you now know that I am pregnant. It happened the night before the battle. The only night Casavir and I had together since..."

"Since you were wed in the Tyrrian Brotherhood. Bishop told us last night. It also answers my question of where you disappeared to for so long. Kyrie...you went into that dreadful city while in this delicate state? I would be mortified if Torio did that were she carrying my child!"

"I had to ...to free Casavir. He is my beloved. Can you even partially understand how terrible this is for me? Even a little? I had my memories stolen from me on a whim by two deities who couldnt settle an argument between themselves. I was placed in a situation that I had no control over, and in the end I gave my heart to another man, without knowing just _who_ that other man was. What does that say about my love for my Cassi? What does that say about _me_ as a person? I cant help how my heart feels for Bishop. I love Casavir with all my heart and soul but...but....hes _gone _Sand. If I hadnt taken so long in finding him maybe he would still be alive. That part of my heart that says he isnt gone is _still_ screaming at me but...where do I even look if I _wanted_ to entertain that thought? I have to stop this wishful thinking and accept his death one way or another. This child will need a mother who is whole and healthy, not broken and tormented. Bishop is willing to stand by me, how can I refuse that? _You_ have Torio now, you are starting a life together. I want someone in _my_ life too, Althraion."

Tears filled her eyes and spilled onto her pale cheeks. Sand wiped them away, feeling dreadfully sorry for her situation. Why must one as good as she have to suffer so overly much? She did her part for the world, why couldnt the gods give her a break and let her be happy? Or...maybe they _had_. Maybe they had brought Bishop back into her life knowing what she would have to face. Did he, or any of the others have the right to tear that away from her also? Just because _they _were unable to forgive him?

The wizard sighed heavily.

"Kyrie, if he gives you comfort, or...even love, then far be it from me to take that from you. I cannot forgive as easily as you and it will take some time for me to be comfortable around him, but I accept your decision and will do what I can to support it. If he tries anything however...he will be burnt and flayed without a second thought."

Kyrie smiled through her tears, then she looked through her damp lashes at Sand.

"Sand, I miss Casavir. I miss my Cassi so much!" She covered her face with her hands and sobbed softly. Sand pulled her to him.

"I know, my girl, I know. What a terrible burden you bear. Just let us be here for you, all of us. Just think about that beautiful little baby of his. A gift from the gods, part of him will always live on now."

"Och, elf! What have ye done to the wee lassie?" Khelgar bustled over and knelt beside them. "I came out here ta see if anyone wanted ta do some sparrin'! Im gettin' soft 'round the middle what with no battles and all the ale I can drink!" He patted his girth with a laugh, trying to cheer Kyrie up. She didnt move from Sand's chest and Khelgar looked on, his face filled with compassion.

"Maybe I'll look for yer lassie there elf. She looks like she can take a few punches, shes a fighter, tha' girl. Ahh but she has a bad arm still. Hmpf! I saw tha' ranger in the hallway mebbe I will see how much _he_ can take!" Khelgar chuckled and moved off, then turned back. "Ye just mind the lady fer now. I willna see her like this fer long. I miss her smile."

Bishop gave the dwarf a nod as they crossed in the doorway. The ranger walked back to the tree and knelt down beside Kyrie. She heard him say her name and she looked up and wiped her eyes, then turned to put her arms around his neck and bury her face in his chest.

"Shes hurting something fierce, Sand. I know how you all feel about me but we _all _need to get her through this."

"She has told me her feelings and her wishes regarding _you_ already. Despite that, I suggest you stay out of my way, as I am not as charitable as Kyrie nor as patient." He stood up and gave the ranger a hard stare. He still wasnt seeing the same guile and deception in the human face as he once did, but he would be damned if he didnt stop looking for it. The man had been far too evil to suddenly do an about face. Sand vowed to himself that he would be ready if Bishop tried anything that remotely smelled of deceit. He walked briskly back to the door.

Bishop sighed heavily and rocked Kyrie for a moment. He positioned himself against the tree as he had earlier. Karnwyr lay down at his side with a grunt and proceeded to groom his paws. Bishop lay a hand on Kyrie's belly.

"How is the baby today?"

"Shes fine, I think...I dont really know since I have never had one before. Im pretty sure Casavir knows...knew...more about all this then I do." She looked up at him with her red rimmed eyes.

"You think its a girl?" he gave her that curious half-smile he sometimes did when his mind walked in unfamilliar territory.

"I do. I just have this image in my mind of a little girl with Casavir's beautiful blue eyes..." she burst into tears again, and Bishop's heart sank to his feet. He didn't know what to say to her, what to do for her to ease the pain. So much grief couldnt possibly be healthy. He had seen animals lose their young when they were overstressed. Humans were even more delicate then any beast. Concerned, he stroked her hair and murmured words of comfort as best he could.

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"Its been a month now and she hasnt gone past the courtyard!" exclaimed Neeshka. "Come on Torio, we need to get her out and about. Bishop just sits there he doesnt even _try_ to get her to do anything! Lets get her horse ready and go for a ride to visit Nasher or something, anything!"

"Neeshka, she shouldnt be riding," said Torio. "We dont want her to lose Casavir's baby. Shes having a hard enough time as it is."

"Well lets _walk_ somewhere then! Its not good for her to be locked up like some..._treasure_ or something, you know?"

"Gods, Neeshka. Kyrie is grieving. She might be this way for a year or longer. We cant force her to do anything. Shes doing really well with Bishop, surprisingly enough. Im sure soon she will come around and want to do other things."

Neeshka leaned close to Torio, a naughty look in her red eyes. "Do you think they are _doing it_? I mean he might be an idiot but hes kinda cute you know? I couldnt hardly blame her for doing it with him. Oh wait, I guess now she isnt doing it anymore 'cause you cant, hey?"

Torio turned her head and gave Neeshka an exasperated stare. "One, I dont know if they are _doing it_, as you so eloquently put it, and two, you _can_ do it if you are pregnant you just have to be careful. Now can we stop talking about Kyrie's personal life? Please?"

The tiefling giggled and patted Torio on the head with her tail.

"Lets go visit Nasher. I love how he squirms when Im around. And Nevalle, hes kinda cute too, hey? Maybe we can go see him too." Neeshka bounced around, restless and over stimulated.

"No. Lets not. Nevalle threw me out of _here_ on pain of death, Im not going to go to Neverwinter and flaunt myself in front of him, thanks. I like my head attached to my body."

"Come ON Torio, no ones going to take off your head while Kyrie's around!"

Torio sighed heavily and got up. "I am going to the kitchen and look for some food. Why dont _you _go visit Nasher and Nevalle. Just dont mention me being here."

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Torio had been right. Within a few weeks, Kyrie began to emerge more from her room and venture elsewhere then the courtyard. Bishop never left her side, and everyone noticed how oddly different he was. He was even seen going in and out of the Church of Tyr a few times. Bishop had spent some time talking to Torio, and Torio wasnt as agitated having him around as Sand still was. Khelgar viewed the ranger with a suspicious and critical eye, but there never seemed to be anything to get upset at him about. It was though the real Bishop had been replaced with a gentler, kinder clone. In truth, Khelgar liked the man now. He showed a caring side to himself that was refreshing...and he enjoyed sparring with the dwarf.

Kyrie had summoned a friend of hers to the Keep, a feisty dwarven woman named Magda, to help with the pregnancy and the birth. The little lady had arrived within a few weeks, bringing with her a goat cart, a small cat, and a few personal belongings.

Khelgar had spilled his ale down his front when he saw her, he was fit to be tied. She was the loveliest creature he had ever laid eyes on. Magda saw him staring at her, and cuffed him upside the head.

"What are ye starin' at ye wild eyed Willie? Ye never seen a dwarven woman before!? Och mind I dont put yer eyes out!"

"Dwarven woman be damned! I see before me a _lady_ ta be sure!" He had raised his glass of ale to her before drinking it down in almost one big gulp.

Magda had laughed, and joined him at the table. It was that moment that Khelgar Ironfist fell hopelessly in love, and Magda Goldshaper would never be lonely again.

It was not unusual for the group of them to ride out to a neighboring forest to hunt, then cook up the feast. There was always music and singing, much joy and laughter. Torio would always entertain the group with her dances and songs, and the former ambassador seemed to have shaken off her Luskan darkness. Sand's face seemed to be permanently etched in adoration for his beautiful lady, and he had announced his intention to take her to the elven wedding stone to formalize his making her Lady Torio of House Nhaereseer. There was much rejoicing the day they took their vows, Kyrie had the artisans make two intricately carved bracelets to symbolize their union. Torio had apparently turned very pale when Sand had showed her exactly what House Nhaereseer was comprised of, and all she could say to Kyrie was that the unwanted, unloved Luskan street urchin was now truly a lady in every sense of the word. Then she had cried on her friend's shoulder.

Kyrie had taken up her responsibilities of minding the Keep once more, but when she was in the forest with her friends, her eyes lightened up, and she smiled ceaselessly. She was happiest walking out in the fields away from the Keep with Bishop, she smiled the brightest when she had been away with him. She was 7 months along, and the child inside her made her tire easily, and the smallest tasks were sometimes cumbersome. It was obvious to everyone closest to her that she was healing, her grieving was coming to an end. The sadness gave way to acceptance, and she reveled in her love for the ranger.

It was the duties of the Keep that weighed so heavy on Kyrie. She had taken up the task during times of war, forced into the position by destiny and necessity. Now that the war was over, she found herself questioning over and over again why she was still doing a job that she hated. There were so many capable people who could take over the running of the Keep, and she really considered leaving it to them. Kana had proven more then capable, and she enjoyed the task immensely. Kyrie wanted to be free, to raise her child, to love the man she had come to adore even more then ever. It burdened her soul.

One evening during the forest feast, she had gone off by herself, tears stinging her eyes. Tears of guilt for the most part, over wishing she could just abandon everything and run off into the wilds with Bishop. She felt terrible over her selfishness, knowing that so many people loved and relied on her, but she knew that her child would need her as well, a child who was bereft of her natural father. It was all too much to bear.

"What is it, Ky? What's the matter?" Bishop's soft voice floated into her ears as he came up behind her and put his arms around her, his hands resting gently on her swollen belly.

"Is the baby alright? Shes not hurting you is she?" He was mystified by the entire situation, and always concerned that the pregnancy was a painful, debilitating condition from which he had to protect her.

"Shes fine, Bishop. Its...its the Keep. Its just so much to handle these days."

"You can always delegate some of it to others, Ky. You dont need to handle it all yourself. Give some to Sand, hes always bored. Khelgar could help and you have several others besides them and Kana you can trust to oversee things."

She was quiet a long time, leaning back on him. "Its not really that, Bishop. You hate being in the Keep. I hate asking you to be there, but I need you, and _I_ have to be there. Its just that...this isnt what I want anymore. This duty and honor deal isnt real anymore. Its...its not _me_ anymore. I feel selfish for wanting out, but Im a different person now..."

Bishop didnt speak for awhile. Then he turned her to face him.

"Its not selfish, Kyrie. Its honest. The Keep will survive without you, and you will do a lot better away from it. We can all see that. You _are_ different out here. Ask the others, they will tell you."

"I dont need to ask the others. They have all told me over the course of time. But most of all I feel it inside myself. I feel a need to move on from my former life. I just dont...well...I mean where to go, what to do..."

His eyes were tender, and he touched his lips to hers gently.

"You could...you could always...uhh...marry _me_ Kyrie."

She stared at him, shocked. That odd lopsided grin appeared on his face, and he took her hand and raised it to his lips, kissing it softly. His eyes were large, bright and beautiful.

"Kyrie, will you marry me, and live out here in the wilds with me?"

The question he had partially asked her so many times since the day they first met, was finally given a definitive answer.

"Yes...I will marry you and live out here in the wilds with you, Bishop."

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No one had been happy to see Knight Captain Kyrie leave Crossroad Keep. Some had been less happy about her marriage to the traitor Bishop, but then not everyone was privileged to know the truth of the situation. Kyrie and Bishop left the Keep, settling in a beautiful little cottage on the furthest edge of the property. Since the Keep was hers and always would be, leaving the day to day running of it was one thing, but Lord Nasher had refused to allow her to deed it away. He gave his blessings, although warily, to the young couple, and reminded Kyrie of her duty to return to arms if the call to protect Neverwinter was ever sounded again. She didnt have a problem agreeing to that. She felt that he relied on her in some way and he was a good man and deserved at least that much for all he had given her.

Bishop, Veedle and her other friends had built the lovely little cottage as a surprise for Kyrie, who couldnt do too much anymore. She was very nearly ready to bring Casavir's child into the world, and sometimes when Bishop was out hunting, or when she was out wandering the forest nearby she would weep silent tears for her lost love.

She had brought his beloved warhorse Azrelaine to live with her steed Razelique, and slowly was convincing Bishop to learn how to ride him. In true warhorse fashion, the animal was not overly accepting of anyone but his master, but his master had not been seen in a very long time, and to his equine mind that equated to desertion and a need to adopt another.

Kyrie no longer rode, although the gentle Razelique would not have let her come to any harm. She had slowly but surely continued to regain any left over memories and her strength, but the Kyrie that fought the King of Shadows was long dead. The Kyrie who had survived the battle, lost her beloved and found love in a very unlikely heart was a beast of a different color. She still worshipped Tyr, for a deep abiding love for him lived inside her heart, and Bishop had slowly come to learn a little about Tyr as well as showing an interest in two ranger gods. She didnt understand what brought it all about, how he even learned of them, but he was curious, and if it would save her beloved from oblivion she was all for it.

Sand and Torio stayed on at the Keep. They wanted to be near their friend, but they didnt wish to live so far from the comforts of a well established town. Kyrie had to build a school, not just for Torio's adopted children Marian and Mattie, but for other children who came to the land with their families. She also brought several young clerics and midwives to ensure that no one was without care as families grew and prospered at Crossroad Keep. Sand shyly told Kyrie that he and Torio were working on an army of "little wizards" he could take over the world with. Torio had taken an interest in farming and was raising an herb garden with Magda's help. She had also discovered the gentle Chauntea, and it was obvious to all that the goddess had accepted the former ambassador as a follower when her first herb crop yeilded more then a record number of plants.

Khelgar and Magda had take their vows and moved into a little farmhouse within the confines of the Keep. He was always laughing and smiling, even moreso then he did before, and he proudly boasted his burgeoning belly with thanks to his mate's astounding cooking skills. Her grown sons would often come to visit, and they came to love their step-father and his wild stories of adventure. The orphan children of the Keep came around to hear stories of being a Tyrrian monk, and to learn a few battle tricks.

Neeshka did not make a home at the Keep although she did frequent it and visited Kyrie fairly often. She seemed to have her eye on a young knight in the Watch, and to hear her tell it, he was also rather fond of the little rogue.

Life gently ebbed and flowed around Crossroad Keep and its inhabitants.

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"Are you happy here, with me, Kyrie?" Bishop asked her one evening as they sat by the fire. He was making more arrows, and she was working on a tapestry for the baby. It was a picture of Casavir with his warhorse. She looked over at him with a smile.

"Im _very_ happy with you...why do you ask? Dont I show you enough?"

"Dont ever think that. You show me more love then I deserve, Ky. I just...well I just want to know sometimes if you are happy with me. If...if I do right by you..." his voice grew soft. Walking in unfamiliar territory made him withdraw into himself in discomfort. The callous, hard edge of his protective barrier was gone, but when challenged emotionally Bishop still grew silent and withdrew. He still struggled with the fact that he was no nobleman, that he lacked the education and the status of the people that surrounded Kyrie. She was sure that he was still trying to measure up to Casavir, that the ghost of the knight haunted his heart and belittled everything he did. Try as she might, Kyrie was unable to get through to him that she thought he was perfect just the way he was, that his history made him who he was, and there was nothing wrong with that.

Bishop was often insecure, and when anyone of status came to see her, he would vanish into the forest with Karnwyr until they were gone. She never begrudged him that need to escape, perhaps he needed to feel that if he ever wanted to run away there was nothing holding him. Kyrie had never exacted words like _forever _and _always_ from him because he could not fathom such timeframes. It was more then enough for her to hear him say he loved her.

It had surprised Kyrie that it was Bishop who wanted them to exchange rings at their wedding ceremony. She would have settled just fine for a druid and a few words spoken at the river, but it was Bishop who looked into the traditions of different ceremonies, and insisted on a Brother of Tyr to preside. He decided that the church in Neverwinter would be perfect, and so it was.

He had given her a beautiful hand carved ring with a bow and a sword crossed, a pawprint on one side and a horseshoe on the other. The edges were carved with the traditional vines. Kyrie had had one made for him that showed a sunset. He had shown so much delight with that simple gift. He didnt tell her that it was the first gift he had ever received in his entire life.

Kyrie had worn the necklace Sand had given her so long ago, shoes and a tiara that Neeshka "found" for her, and the little dwarven lady had done up her hair. Torio procured her a bouquet of flowers, blooms she had picked herself and put together into the loveliest grouping Kyrie had ever seen. The biggest surprise was Khelgar's gift. He had somehow managed to find her a dress. Although she was heavy with child, the dress fit like it was made for her and Kyrie had cried when she saw it.

Before the ceremony, Kyrie found Bishop behind the church, wiping tears from his eyes.

_"Oh dear, what is wrong?" she asked, concerned. He shook his head, preferring to not respond for fear of the emotion that would come with it. Kyrie embraced him._

_"We dont have to do this, Bishop. If it scares you...we just dont have to do this."_

_"No! Is that what you think? That I dont want to do this?"_

_She nodded. "Yes. I know how any ties at all frighten you."_

_That response made him look sadder then before._

_"Thats how it was with me. I just didnt want to be tied down to anything or anyone. Because if you did that then you were setting yourself up to be hurt or worse. But you...you changed all that for me, Ky. I love you so much, dont go thinking that I dont want to marry you because I do."_

_She had smiled at him, and they had kissed tenderly for a long moment. Then he had opened his heart, and his pain to her._

_"Ky...the truth is, I feel like less of a man because I dont have anything to give you. Casavir gave you his name and all the stuff that went with it. What do I have? I dont even have any honor. Im a branded traitor and I wont ever live that down. Ive never been anything, and I never will be."_

_She had touched his face, and when he looked away had taken both her hands and forced him to look at her._

_"Bishop! You have given me your love! You have given me your honesty! You have changed your entire life, your entire way of thinking because you love me. That is a bigger gift to me and worth more then any name, title or honor ever would be. Dont you EVER think less of yourself! As for never being anything...you will be my husband. You will be the father of our children. Can that be enough for you?"_

_He had sighed deeply, her words striking a chord with him. He held her close._

_"Yeah. You are right. I guess I just got bogged down in all the small stuff again. I need to focus on you, and the baby."_

Kyrie smiled at Bishop, seeing the firelight dance in his beautiful amber eyes.

"My love, you have done right by me. You do right by me every day that you remain with me. I only hope that you are happy here with me too, and will always be."

"Until you, I didnt know what happiness was. I didnt know joy til the day I woke up with the light in my eyes after that...that terrifying darkness. Anywhere _you_ are Ky is happiness to me. I dont care where it is, I just care that you are with me."

He went back to his fletching, a song on his lips.


	21. Chapter 21

Brother Ilisharan paced back and forth across the floor. The bard seated on the chair watched him curiously. The cleric had asked for a private performance after hearing him play at the town center. It was odd to have a Tyrrian brother ask for a private show, and Frederik had readily agreed, if nothing else it would make for a great new song.

"Please, friend, play for me the song about the Knight Captain of the Sword Coast once more," the Brother had asked.

Frederik had begun the first song that came to mind, but the cleric stopped him rather unceremoniously.

"No...no not that one. The one that talks about her coming back from the dead."

The Brother had listened carefully to the entire song. He paid Frederik generously.

"Tell me friend, without any embellishment, have you been to the Sword Coast, had you seen the Knight Captain for yourself?"

More odd questions. Bards seldom saw anything for themselves. They heard rumors and stories and wrote songs about them with which to earn a living.

"Aye good Brother I have been to the Sword Coast. Twas a tavern in Neverwinter I met another minstrel who taught me that song. Did I see the good Knight Captain? Nay good Brother I did not."

"And the one who taught you this song, did he see the Knight Captain for himself?"

"That I cannot tell you. It was not something I asked _her_."

Brother Ilisharan paced some more.

"Do you suppose the story is true? Or do you suppose it is simply a rumor, friend?"

Frederik had never been asked such things in his life. One didnt think deeply on the songs or the stories, one simply performed them, collected the coin and went on their way. He respectfully explained this to Brother Ilisharan. The Tyrrian sighed heavily.

"Understood. Please, sing it for me once more."

_A favored soul of Tyr was she_

_with hair as black as ebony_

_her life she gave to slay a King_

_a time of peace this deed did bring._

_No darkness turned her stalwart heart_

_Without complaint she played her part_

_She asked for mercy for those she called friend_

_That they would find peace at the very end._

_They buried her with tears and cries_

_The woman-child with the sunset eyes_

_It was not meant for them to know this lack_

_So it was that the good god brought her back._

_She was lost in her mind for time long passed_

_She did not return to her home so fast_

_Wandering free, searching for_

_The one she longed to see once more._

_She would not allow the truth to lie_

_Her heart spoke loud that he did not die_

_She believed the words she heard inside_

_Her beloved lived, he had not died._

_Where goes the lady with eyes like the sun_

_Chasing a dream, so long begun_

_There in her castle, with eyes to the sky_

_She calls out his name, for he did not die._

_Will madness take her, or will she find_

_Another love to ease her mind_

_Or will she search, no matter the cost?_

_For the precious one she loved and lost?_

Brother Ilisharan didnt hear the soft footfalls behind him. Casavir walked into the room, his face ashen.

"Brother, that ...that song...he said sunset eyes...what is this about? Why is there a bard here in the room?"

Brother Ilisharan sighed. He could not lie to the paladin, his friend. He wished he had dismissed the song as a romance story out of hand, but his heart was shouting loudly for him to take notice, and one did not ignore ones heart, for that is where Tyr spoke.

"This is Frederik, a bard who sang at the town center today. Frederik, this is my dear friend Sir Casavir."

Frederik stood and bowed. More oddities in one day. He was sure going to have a new song to write by day's end if this kept up. The strange Tyrrian brother and the knight with no armor.

"Well met, Frederik. I am sorry for the intrusion but that song, the description is..."

Brother Ilisharan silenced Casavir with a stern look. There was no need for anyone, least of all a _bard_ to know he had ties to the hero of legend. They were very far from the Sword Coast, and it needed to stay that way for Casavir's own safety. His rescue and recovery was a miracle, and Brother Ilisharan intended to keep his friend safe from harm of _any_ kind.

Frederik waited for the knight to finish. He saw the look pass between the men, and his mind was dancing with glee. The more strangeness, the better for the entertainment! However he was disappointed when the knight simply shook his head.

"I am sorry, I spoke out of turn. I am sure I mistook what you sang. The song is lovely, please forgive my intrusion."

He bowed gracefully and left the room. Brother Ilisharan thanked Frederik for his time, and paid him a parting sum. He had made more in that short time with the Tyrrian then he had the last two days in the tiny villages he had visited. It was well worth the intrigue the two men presented to him. He was sure he could invent a lovely song about them, and went on his way.

Casavir's bright blue eyes were glittering.

"That song, Brother! It was about Kyrie! I heard the entire thing! Is it true?"

The cleric sighed wistfully. He knew this would happen. He knew that Casavir would take the story and run with it. The pious, honor driven, self-controlled paladin of the time before the war had died in that prison, replaced by a zealous love-stricken man who would not accept what had happened to the woman he loved. That odd glittering in his eyes signalled another bout with one of his self-styled crusades.

"No Casavir, it is not true. It is merely a bard-song, meant to turn a quick coin, nothing more."He busied himself with laying out the implements of blessing. Casavir stopped him.

"If that is so, then why was the bard in your office singing that song to you? Do not tell me it is because you love music, Brother. He did not need to be in private audience with you if that were truly the case!"

"I asked him to come because I...I did not know what I heard earlier. It was crowded and noisy and..."

He saw that the knight was not buying any of it. Not a word.

"Casavir, you have to understand. These type of stories are typical of bards. They pass them on from person to person for entertainment purposes. I just found it interesting that he said..."

"That she was returned to life by Tyr. _Our_ Tyr. The good god of justice." Casavir finished for him. They both stood at the altar, looking up at the statue of their god, both believing in their hearts that for all the sacrifices she had made, returning Kyrie to life would have been right and just. However, Brother Ilisharan also felt that it was highly unlikely, but dared not voice his concern.

He looked at the man that had become his friend, and worry creased his brow. It had been one thing to heal Casavir's body, but his mind was another matter. The cleric had not known the knight before the war, in truth he had only seen a very fleeting piece of his life the day he saw Sir Casavir and his Lady Knight married, but what he did know of paladins, and paladins of Tyr no doubt, gave him a distinct impression that something had changed in Casavir.

There were times that the knight seemed content with his life in the small church, assisting the local villagers. Over the months he seemed to have a grasp and an acceptance that his beloved had gone to Tyr's home. Then for no reason at all, he would suddenly become incredibly focused on looking for her, as though she had not died but was simply lost. He would swear up and down that his heart told him that Kyrie was not dead, that those demons in Luskan had procured some sort of conspiracy. Always, with those glittering eyes. There was something unnatural about that glittering, something that winked in and out of existence and greatly disturbed Brother Ilisharan. Casavir would get an edge then, and his temperament was most certainly not like a paladin's should be, and not like it usually was. The knight would go through periods of rage at some imagined conspiracy, venting his frustration at inanimate objects. Many things had been broken during those times, and Brother Ilisharan was careful to avoid and diffuse potential outbursts. The crusades Casavir's mind launched him on, if not controlled, would break him eventually. Brother Ilisharan worried deeply for his friend.

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"By Tyr's mercy, Casavir, you don't even know if its true!" cried Brother Ilisharan, grabbing the paladin's arm. "You know how bards can be! Some haven't a notion about the truth behind their songs and stories! Please consider this!"

Casavir stared at his friend, his electric blue eyes glittering. He pulled his arm free and resumed tacking up his horse.

"The slightest chance that it is true must be explored, Ilisharan."

"It is a journey of a thousand miles! Let me send a scout to prove these rumors are unfounded. You are not many months back from near death, Casavir!"

"Then that is two thousand miles I must wait! I must be with her! She is my love, my life, Brother! Surely you of all people can understand how my light burns for her!"

Brother Ilisharan shook his head, sighing. "Casavir, you know and have accepted that Lady Kyrie died in the fall of the Vale. No matter how much we both wish that she were somehow spared or returned we must face that it is not so. Honor her memory but live your life, my friend."

Casavir suddenly turned, anger momentarily darkening his glittering eyes. His voice was intense, almost raised to a shout.

"How do we know it is not so! There is no life without her! She is everything to me! Everything! I will go back to the Sword Coast and see for myself if the stories are true. If they are..."

`The paladin's eyes softened and the glittering disappeared, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a wistful smile. "Then Tyr will have blessed me twice with her love. I feel it in my heart, Brother. My beloved lives. My Kyrie is waiting for me."

He laid a hand on his friend's shoulder, then turned and led his horse from the stable.

Brother Ilisharan looked up at the paladin astride the great black warhorse. "May Tyr lay his protection upon you, Sir Casavir de Chantraine."

Casavir nodded with respect. "And also to you, good Brother." He reined the steed towards the gate, and turned once more to the cleric. He waved and the horse reared up.

"To her side!" shouted Casavir, and the beast sprang forward.


	22. Chapter 22

"I am going to hunt for a little while, Ky. Will you be ok here by yourself? Karnwyr will stay with you." Bishop pulled on his boots, and strapped on his dagger.

Kyrie looked up from her book. She was reclining in the bed, nothing else seemed comfortable to her lately. The baby was extremely active, but she didnt have the energy to go for a walk which usually served to rock the little one to sleep inside her.

"I will be fine. Dont worry about me."

"As if I can _manage_ to not worry about you. I dont want to leave you right now, but we need some serious meat around here. I cant live off these fruits anymore and Karnwyr isnt sharing his prey, are you boy?" Bishop ruffled the big wolf's fur affectionately. He walked to the bed and gave Kyrie a lingering kiss.

"Mmm yeah...you keep doing that and neither of us will be eating for the next few days!" He pulled himself away and ventured outdoors.

He had not been gone long when Kyrie decided she needed some fresh air. Maybe picking some berries not too far from the cottage would be alright, she didnt have the energy to go too far. She called the wolf out with her, and gathering up a small basket she set out.

Bishop came back from the other direction hauling his prey, and found her gone; a quick look around told him she had gone looking for fruit. _Well, I can get to preparing this meat then. She will need to eat when she gets home._ He proceeded to skin and prepare the deer he had shot, singing quietly to himself.

He heard the sound of hoofbeats, and wiping his forehead with the back of his hand stood up and turned around. He half expected it to be Torio or Neeshka, but when his eyes landed on the visitor his heart turned to ice and all the color left his face.

"W...what in the nine hells...!"

Casavir's eyes narrowed and began to glitter and anger formed on his features. He dismounted and stalked towards the ranger, standing there covered in blood, knife in hand.

"YOU!" the knight's voice dropped to a menacing growl. "Where is my wife?! Where is Kyrie? What have you done to her?"

Bishop backed up, but stopped when he hit the side of the cottage. His breathing shallowed, and he didnt know what he was seeing. Was it a spectre? This man was dead! He had died and been buried twice over! What was worse, the knight's countenance had changed. The almost sullen, brooding look was gone, replaced by an animalistic openness that unnerved Bishop to the core. The quiet restraint that once held Casavir's actions in check was not there, and he was angry. _Very_ angry.

"She's not here, C...Casavir. Gods man...you are dead! What is the meaning of this?!"

Casavir saw the dead deer on the ground and inwardly sighed with relief. His information gathering at the Keep had told him that the Knight Captain lived here, but no one had mentioned Bishop. Bishop! The traitor who had sold them to the King of Shadows, who had not once, but twice betrayed them.

"Where is Kyrie? I will not ask you again! I will send you to the Wall where you belong, faithless scum!"

Bishop saw that Casavir did not carry a sword on his person. He might have it on his horse, so as long as he kept him away from the horse he couldnt retrieve it.

"I told you, shes not here. She went for a walk with Karnwyr!"

"What have you done to her, traitorous Luskan dog?! What evil sorcery have you foisted on my lady?!"

He stalked ever closer to Bishop, his glittering eyes filled with rage, cornering the ranger who had run out of areas to back up to, having moved sideways to the fence.

"I havent done anything to her! This is her home. This is _our_ home. Hers and mine." Bishop felt his own ire rising. He had fought and suffered for Kyrie's love. He had gone through a living hell to prove to her he was worthy of her love. If it meant he would die fighting for that love now then so be it. He was tired of being on the losing end. What cruel game were the gods playing now? _Why couldnt you just be dead and stay dead!_ his mind silently screamed at the knight.

They both heard Kyrie's happy voice as she sang and bantered with the wolf. The beast turned into a puppy around her, leaping and yipping and spinning. She came around the corner and saw Bishop, his back to her.

"Hey you! Im back! I got us some berries!" she called out, covering them again with a cloth after having nibbled on a few on the way back.

Kyrie looked up and dropped the basket in shock.

She gripped the big wolf's scruff tightly to stop herself from falling to the ground. Her whole body trembled, her heart began to pound. A low moan escaped from her now pale lips, and her legs felt like jelly. Her eyes darted to Bishop who didnt turn around, then back at the man she once called beloved.

"Ca...Cassi?" her voice shook with emotion, and the sudden tears in her eyes blurred her vision. "By Tyr's heart, what is this vision? What cruel sorcery is vested upon me?"

Casavir saw her as she came up on them from behind Bishop. His eyes drank in the glossy ebony hair, blowing free in the breeze. When she saw him she dropped her little basket and he could see those beautiful sunset eyes glow. His eyes raked over her and stopped when he saw her swollen belly. He stared at it, then his eyes shifted to the ranger. He heard Kyrie say his name, heard her speak but he didnt hear the words. His blinding rage was focused on the other man.

"You DOG! Traitorous BEAST!" he shouted. "You did this to her?! You got her with child?! I will send you to the Wall where you belong, demon spawn!"

Casavir ran at him, slamming Bishop hard against the fence. He had never fought without a weapon, yet it was not an issue as he balled up his fist and struck the ranger hard in the face. The younger man held up his arms in defense, yelling for him to stop, but did not fight back. He heard Karnwyr barking loudly.

Kyrie screamed at him. Casavir heard her screaming his name over and over, but it sounded so far away, so surreal. He felt something grab his arm and he shoved it away, thinking it was Bishop or even the wolf. Too late he turned and saw Kyrie stumble into the fence. The wolf Karnwyr leaped to her side, breaking her fall. She doubled over, clutching her abdomen, and fell to her knees, her arms around the wolf.

It was too much for Bishop. He had not wanted to fight the knight, for Kyrie's sake, but the man was out of control. He fell to his side and curled up, then lashed out with his feet and legs. He connected with Casavir's body and the older man fell over backward with a cry of pain and surprise. The blood in his eyes made it hard to see, and Bishop struggled to right himself. Casavir, seeing Kyrie on the ground, stumbled over to her.

"Milady, Kyrie...my love..." he put his hands on the sides of her face. She raised her eyes to his and he saw the fear there. It wasnt the love he thought he would see, but open unbridled terror. She pawed his hands from her face, sobbing, her eyes seeking the ranger.

"Bishop!" she called out. "Bishop, please! Get him away!"

Casavir put his hands on her shoulders.

"Kyrie! Its me, Casavir! I am not dead! I am alive...Kyrie please look at me!" there was an edge of desperation in his voice, but Kyrie's fear of him was mounting. The glittering in his eyes was unnerving her, and her voice rose as she cried out for Bishop again. The ranger, wiping the blood from a head wound out of his eye, crawled over to her. She reached out an arm for him, but Casavir tried to stop her. She let out a wail of anguish and shoved him away, hard.

"Get away from me! Just go!" she screamed and put her arms around Bishop's neck and clung to him, sobbing. He helped her to her feet, then gently picked her up in his arms. Ignoring the knight who sat dumbfounded and shocked on the ground, he carried her into the cottage.

Bishop lay Kyrie gently on the bed, her sobs subsiding. He put his hands gently on her belly, then smoothed the wet hair from her face.

"Are you alright? Is the baby ok?"

"I...Im not sure. I had a few cramps when I almost fell but they seem to be gone now." He saw her eyes drift to the doorway, then shut tight.

Casavir looked around the little cottage and saw the evidence of a life being lived. Portraits on the wall of friends that were no more, a nightdress draped over a chair, a suit of armor and a bow and quiver. Out of a window he saw his warhorse, Azrelaine, calmly eating from a bale of hay. Everywhere he looked he saw Kyrie, and everywhere he saw Kyrie, he saw Bishop intertwined with her. What had happened? Why was she here with _him_?

The ranger spoke.

"You are welcome to come in here, if you can control yourself. I will not have you upsetting Kyrie or breaking anything in our home. Got it?"

Casavir didnt move, his eyes were riveted on his beloved lady lying on the bed heavy with child, her eyes closed. The ranger stood up and faced him, anger plain on his face.

"You almost hurt her and the baby, and for that I should kill you, paladin. However, I think you will find that a lot has changed since you died. And yes, you are dead to the world as you knew it."

Kyrie spoke softly, her voice shaking with emotion, not opening her eyes.

"Casavir, please return to the Keep. Wait for me in Deekin's shop, in the back. When three days have passed I will come to you, and we will talk then. I...I just cant deal with this right now."

The glittering in his eyes was gone, and subdued, Casavir looked away, then nodded.

"As you wish, milady. Three days."

"Oh and Ca...savir..." her tremulous voice stopped him mid stride. "Azrelaine is in the paddock out back. He is yours, if you wish to take him you may."

Kyrie turned her head away from him, still not opening her eyes, her hand holding tightly to Bishop's as it lay on her belly. The ranger's face was still bleeding and was beginning to swell where Casavir had hit him. The knight was mildly shocked to discover that he gleaned a great satisfaction from that vision.

"Goodbye, _paladin_." Bishop's voice was dismissive and hard.

Just like that, everything that Sir Casavir de Chantraine had lived for, was gone.

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Kyrie greeted her little friend, the kobold Deekin warmly, and asked him if he wouldnt mind closing up his shop for the afternoon to give her and Casavir some privacy. She gave him a handsome sum of gold for his trouble, but the little fellow refused to take it.

"Sunset Captain Deekin's friend! Deekin help Sunset Captain all Deekin can! Yes yes yes!"

He had grabbed his fishing pole and happily skipped off.

Kyrie walked slowly to the back of the store, where the small guest room lay. The 20 ft walk felt more like a thousand miles to her, and she was trembling so hard she thought she would come apart. _By Tyr's heart, what on earth has happened? _she thought to herself. _I did everything I could, and then some. I accepted his death, I accepted Bishop's love...and now to have it all torn apart, what do I do?_ She had no idea what she would say to Casavir. She had no idea how to _feel_ about Casavir. Her heart was haunted by the look in Bishop's eyes as she left that morning.

_"Should I expect you back, Ky?" the question was posed to her gently, carefully, as she stepped into the carriage. Bishop's amber eyes were larger then usual, his lips tight as he fought for control of the emotions threatening to overtake him. He held onto her hand, his thumb stroking the side of it._

_Kyrie had raised his fingers to her lips and kissed them, then pressed her cheek against the back of his hand._

_"Bishop, I am hurt, confused and frightened. All I know right now is that this is my home, you are my love. I just...well I dont want to deprive my child of her father, and because of that I need to talk to Cassi...Casavir. He deserves to know this child is his, and deserves the opportunity to know her if that is what he wishes."_

_"I think I should come with you, in case...in case he loses his mind again. I dont want you getting hurt, Ky." He looked down, the last vestiges of his control slipping away. When he raised his head again, there were fresh tears on his cheeks._

_"I love you, Kyrie. I...gods...I just want you to be happy, whatever that means for me."_

_He had turned away so quickly and run off into the forest, Karnwyr on his heels._

Kyrie knocked softly on the door. It was opened, and she hesitated a moment before stepping inside. She left the door open, knowing no one would disturb them, and she was honestly a bit concerned how Casavir would react, given his extreme reaction to Bishop at the cottage. Kyrie planned to tell him about the baby, tell him she was married to Bishop, and leave.

That whole plan went out the window when those steely blue eyes locked onto hers.

"Milady Kyrie...my love..." his voice was so low as to almost be a whisper.

"Casa...Cassi..." Tears fell onto her cheeks as she realized that she completely, and desperately still loved this man, and that her heart had never let him go.

His eyes left hers and wandered to her swollen belly, then back up. She put out a hand to stop him as he took a step towards her.

"Casavir, wait. There is something you need to know, first." She lay a hand on her abdomen.

"This child...is yours."

Casavir opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He stared at her, then took a halting step backwards and sat down hard on the bed. He remembered what he had done at the cottage, how he had very nearly injured his lady, his love...his child.

Casavir, for the first time in his life, covered his face with his hands and cried.

Kyrie could stand it no longer. All the hoping, waiting, praying and grieving released in one big cry as she moved to his side and pulled him into her arms, inhaling the scent of him, feeling his hair beneath her fingers.

Her lips crushed his, her tongue seeking entrance to his mouth. Kyrie tore his shirt open, and covered his chest with kisses, pushing him down on the bed. Casavir didnt resist, his hands were entangled in her beautiful ebony waves, their kisses and their tears mingling together. He let her push him down, kiss him, touch him. This woman whose mere memory had kept him alive, whose love was the force behind his desire to survive his capture.

"Cassi, my Cassi..." she breathed, sitting astride him, feeling his hardness beneath her. He gripped her hips and grinded against her, his eyes wild. She reached down and fumbled with the buttons on his breeches, wanting to free him from the constraints, wanting to wrap her hands around that beautiful member.

Then Casavir grabbed her hands, stopping her.

"Milady...this is...this is not right."

She stared at him, incredulous.

"You have returned from the _dead_...and you tell me its not _right_ to want to _love_ you?"

Casavir gently moved her from him, and sat up, running a hand through his hair.

"This little one...milady...you are far advanced in your pregnancy it would be ill advised for us to do this now. I would not wish to hurt either of you."

Kyrie didnt know what to think for a long moment, then she smiled, and lay down on her side. The baby was awake and dancing. Kyrie took his hand and laid it on her, letting him feel the happy movements. Casavir's eyes lit up and he laughed, then he stared at her in wonder, tears filling his eyes and spilling onto his cheeks once more as he silently praised Tyr for such a great miracle. Kyrie noticed that he allowed his emotions free reign, there was no sign of the stoic battles he used to fight with his heart and his mind. She liked being able to read his feelings in his eyes, his face expressive and alive. He lay his cheek against her belly, speaking softly to the tiny life nestled safely inside his beloved's body. The baby kicked and squirmed and Kyrie giggled.

"Cassi, she knows you! She is never this lively for us, ever!"

At her mention of the word "us", Casavir sat up and looked at her. A strange light crossed his eyes then, a light she had never seen before, and his eyes glittered oddly. It changed his entire expression, and Kyrie wasnt exactly sure she liked what she was seeing. He reached out and took her hand, looking down at the ring on her finger. He had expected to see the carved mithril ring he had given her, and the sight of the crossed bow and sword hurt him beyond measure.

"Why, Kyrie? Why..._him_?"

"He has been changed, Cassi. He has been forever changed by Tyr. Lord Nasher declared you dead...twice. I grieved your loss, but I had no choice other then to move on. Bishop was there, he was always there for me. This baby needed a proper home and family. I had to make that decision and it was the hardest one in my life. I know now that my heart spoke the truth, always telling me you werent truly dead, but after the failed rescue attempt...I couldnt do it anymore."

Casavir's brow knit in consternation.

"Milady, I am sorry but I am confused. What failed rescue attempt are you speaking of?"

Kyrie then recounted to him everything that had happened to her, including Bishop's trials, their wedding, and leaving the Keep. She detailed the near fatal rescue attempt and how she had had to let him go in order to save herself.

"Y...you went into Luskan... like this, so heavy with child?"

"Yes, but it was several months ago. We all did. Even Bishop was there to help. It just didnt turn out like we had hoped. The guards recognized Torio, and..."

"Torio? Torio Claven? The Luskan ambassador? No wonder you failed! That she-devil betrayed you, of that I am sure!"

Kyrie looked at him, shocked. The sudden harshness of his voice startled her, and she crawled back from him.

"N...no Cassi. Torio isnt...shes not the same anymore, either. She is Sand's wife, and my best friend."

Casavir stood up abruptly and stalked to the other side of the room, then back again.

"Is it just me, milady, or do you not also see what is happening here? Torio Claven and Sand, _both_ of them are Luskan! Luskan infiltrators, in your Keep!"

"Casavir...you dont realize that things have changed. The war, and everything that happened after, changed people. Sand was always my dearest friend you knew this and accepted it, and when he and Torio realized their love for each other, it was a blessing, for them and for me. She is a good person, Casavir, she has proven that and has always done right by me. Torio has never put a foot wrong since the day she was brought to this Keep in chains. You even approved of my decision to bring her to us! She has two beautiful children too, orphans that she took in." Kyrie sat on her knees, eyes brightly shining with joy as she recounted her first meeting with Torio in the little village. Casavir, however, did not share her joy. His glittering eyes were narrowed.

"I am sure those so called children are Luskan also, being trained as spies!"

"Casavir, the little girl is Luskan, yes. Not every Luskan is a monster to be hunted! There are regular people who live there, families who love one another and are trying to survive. Torio's daughter's family was _murdered_ Cassi, and she was left to wander the streets alone. Can you imagine such a fate befalling _our _daughter? If not for that merchant and Torio...little Marian would be dead, or worse by now."

"Death is the _only_ just fate for _every_ Luskan dog!" he shouted, looming over her.

Kyrie was horrified at the look in his eyes. The stoic, faithful and gentle Casavir was gone. The man that stood before her was _not _her beloved; _her_ Casavir would never have accused children of being enemy spies, nor would he condemn them to death because of their bloodline or place of residence.

"Why are you saying this? These babies lost their parents! Torio did not have to take them in but she did, and she had willingly gone back into a city that wants her dead for treason, because she wanted to see _you_ rescued and _me_ happy, because she believes that our baby deserves a whole family! What sort of person would do that if not for love, if not for the belief in what is right and good, Casavir?"

His eyes glittered with rage. "The sort who is trying to fleece an enemy and lull them into a state of vulnerability, thats who!"

Kyrie swallowed back her tears.

"Casavir! Stop! This isnt like you! Please!"

He stared at her, his eyes and voice hard and unyielding.

"And that Luskan ranger, that _traitor_. Sold us to our deaths not once, but _twice_. How long was I buried before you let him into your bed, my _lady_? How do I know this child isnt his, that Luskan dog! I should put an end to the lot of you Luskans and Luskan sympathizers!"

Kyrie backed off the end of the bed in horror at his words and stood up, her back against the wall. Terrified of him now, she wanted to leave, but the door seemed so very far away. She was too frightened to move, too bereaved to speak. She looked down at the bed, tears falling free.

Whatever had happened to her beloved Casavir in that Luskan prison had stolen his heart, and his beautiful soul. What was left was a shell of the heroic, noble paladin he had once been. This shell was unpredictable, a dangerous, traumatized crusader. He heard only one word: Luskan. That word was enough to send him over the edge, and who could know what harm he could cause when in this state? Kyrie felt the responsibility of the Keep and its people crush down on her, her responsibility to her child, _their_ child, to her friends and their families, and her tears stopped, replaced by the mantle of the Lady Knight Captain of Neverwinter's Crossroad Keep.

She raised her head, her eyes narrowed and hard, her lips tight to contain her emotion.

"Casavir de Chantraine, I hereby relieve you of your duty to Crossroad Keep. You are to leave the Keep and its environs immediately. You will _not_ accost any resident of _my_ Keep and the surrounding lands on _pain of death_. Your warhorse, the steed Azrelaine is in the stables, you are free to take him. Now go."

Kyrie pointed to the door, hoping he didnt see how hard she was trembling. The look of shock on his face as the color drained from him tore her heart out. The Casavir that she loved, that once had been, was fighting for control over the shell. The harshness left his eyes, that strange glittering stopped. With an agonized look at her, Casavir bowed and walked out of the room. She heard him cross the shop floor, open the door to the outside world and shut it again. Kyrie locked the door of the room she was in, and crawled onto the bed.

She let go of every dream, every unrealized possibility, shelved her precious memories of him in a room in her heart, and cried until she had no tears left to cry.

She didnt see the glowing white orb that pulsated in the corner of the room.


	23. Chapter 23

Kyrie returned to her little cottage emotionally exhausted. Bishop looked at her with concern, at the _silence_ in her usually lively, expressive eyes. She stepped from the carriage and he gathered her into his arms, picking her up carefully and carrying her to their bed.

She let him lovingly undress her and tuck her under the blankets. Bishop didnt know what to say to his beloved Kyrie; his heart was relieved that she was home, he thought he might never see her again. He was overjoyed at her return, but saddened at the state she was left in. He wanted to know what had happened between her and Casavir, but he did not want her to revisit the affair until she was ready.

For two days, Kyrie lay in bereaved silence in her bed. On the third day, Torio and Sand came to see her. They hadn't heard from her and were concerned. Bishop sat them down at the little dining room table and told them what had happened.

"So he's alive?" Torio's grey eyes were large with amazement.

"Yeah," said Bishop. "Hes alive but hes...messed up in the head."

"_Messed up in the head_," Sand repeated. "_My_, Bishop, you are certainly eloquent with words, aren't you? What precisely do you mean by 'messed up in the head'?"

"I _mean_ exactly that. Hes not the same as he was. He came here and just attacked me without hardly a word. Something in his eyes that just...wasn't right. I cant explain it better then that. His mind is just...gone."

Sand and Torio exchanged glances, then looked over at Kyrie curled up on the bed.

"So she went and spoke to him at the Keep, and came home like _that_?"

"That's right. Hasn't spoken a word to me either. I haven't been able to get her to eat much, or drink. She gets up to go to the bathroom and...and that's about all. Doesn't cry, doesn't talk..."

Sand glared at him, hostility open in his face.

"At which point, _ranger_, would you have thought to maybe let one of _us_ know?"

The wizard saw the ranger's jaw twitch as he clenched his teeth.

"Let you know? Do you think I would leave her alone for a _minute_ like this? Why dont you get off my case, wizard! I love that woman and Im doing the best that I can for her, so back off!" Bishop's voice was louder then he had intended, and Kyrie stirred.

Torio looked at Sand, who was smirking at Bishop, the blue elven eyes narrowed and cold. He had intended to push the man's buttons just to see what was under this strange new persona.

However, to his dismay, Torio wasn't taking his side this time.

"Althraion, he does have a point you know. He cant leave her alone and there arent exactly a line up of messengers outside."

Sand _knew_ she was right, but his elven pride would not let him admit it, nor would his mistrust of the ranger. He stood up and walked to the bed, sitting on the edge of it he stroked Kyrie's hair.

"Dear girl, you need talk to us. You know you are not alone here, whatever happens we are all here to stand with you, no matter what. Remember what Khelgar said: we are a family, come what may."

He turned to look at Bishop.

"We will let the others know what has happened. Do you not think that it might be better to move her back to the Keep for now?"

"No, I do _not_. The Keep just oppresses her and she doesn't need that right now. What I _do_ want is to have the dwarf, Magda, come and stay with us now. Kyrie is at her due date for the baby and Im not exactly equipped to deal with _that_."

Sand smiled at the man's obvious discomfort.

"Very well, I will deliver the message to Magda personally, and return in 2 days to time to see how Kyrie is doing. Ensure you take proper care of her, Bishop." Sand gave him a hooded look full of innuendo.

Torio leaned over her friend and gave her a kiss on her slumbering cheek, then Sand took her hand and led her outside to where their horse was grazing. Sand didn't look at or say another word to the ranger, but Torio waved goodbye with a small smile as they rode off towards the Keep.

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Casavir tried to purge the look of terror in Kyrie's beautiful eyes from his mind. She had looked at him as though he were a stranger to be feared, not the man who loved her with all his heart, the man who wanted to _save_ her fallen soul. She was surrounded by Luskan plots on all sides and she refused to see it. She was _married_ to a traitor who had somehow convinced her he was everything but. What in the hells had happened while he was away? How had everything become so terribly complicated?

His beloved Kyrie, his lady, his Captain had walked away from the Keep and its people, abandoning all sense of responsibility and decorum for what? A tiny cottage in the middle of nowhere! Did the Luskan wizard and the ambassador have some sort of enchantment on her? Nothing on earth could have made the steadfast and faithful Kyrie leave her post and her people that way! Nothing short of Luskans and their vile schemes!

He had ridden Azrelaine hard and made a camp in the forest. He had planned to return to Brother Ilisharan, but his mind was screaming at him to free his beloved lady from the hands of the Luskans. In a twisted way she too was being held prisoner by them. He couldn't believe that he had once called some of them 'friend'. That was before he had come to his senses and seen for himself what Luskans were capable of.

Casavir's tortured, broken mind swirled around the possible Luskan plots going on at the Keep, as his eyes glittered madly. He thought about Kyrie's child. Was it truly his? Or was it another plot within a plot? The possibilities were endless. If the child were his it would need to be saved, if it were Luskan, then he knew what needed to be done as well.

He supposed he would have to wait and see for himself. Perhaps it would be prudent to remove Kyrie from that cursed place immediately, get her away from the ranger, take her somewhere far from the Sword Coast. That traitorous Luskan dog needed to be put down, to prevent him from following them.

Kyrie needed to have her baby in a safe environment, free of Luskan wizards and their ilk. If the child turned out to look like that traitor, or worse...Kyrie needn't even deal with it. He would take care of the situation, and try and bring her out of her oblivious state. Yes, that is what he needed to do.

He paced the camp restlessly, trying to formulate a plan, his anger and his madness working itself into a frenzy. _What if she is not being held prisoner by the Luskans?_ The new idea popped into his head. _What if she is a part of this grand scheme, what if my beloved lady is now one of them? What if she is a Luskan spy bent on taking him down? Back to that living nightmare._

Casavir's glittering eyes scanned the darkened forest. He imagined all sorts of horrors lurking there, watching him, waiting for him to put down his guard. Well, they would be disappointed.

He brandished his sword and shouted into the darkness.

"Come for me if you dare, demons! I will send you to the abyss where you belong!"

The only response was an owl in the distance calling to its mate.

Casavir set up a makeshift altar to perform his daily devotions. The one thing he could always count on was Tyr's faithfulness. The good god of justice demanded his followers do what was right and good. He felt secure that his plan was exactly that. To purge the enemies of righteousness was his mission and he would see to it that it was done. If his Lady would not see the error of her ways and come with him, then he would send her to the Nine Hells along with her Luskan compatriots.

Casavir snarled at the mention of the word, his breathing coming in short pants as though he had exerted himself. He tried to settle his heart and his mind for his prayers, but neither would allow him to settle. He heard sounds in the darkness, the calls of the wild animals, flapping, howling, screeching.

Suddenly the sound of running footsteps assaulted his mind, and he jumped up from his seated position, sword in hand, eyes glittering and darting in a search for movement. He thought he heard laughter from the trees, and he shouted a challenge into the wind. _Was it the ranger? Had he somehow followed me out here? Has he told the Luskans where I am, have they come for me?_

"You will not take me back to your living hell!" he yelled, slashing at the air. "Show yourself! I will show you what the wrath of a paladin feels like!"

Tension bunched up his muscles, and sweat poured from his skin despite the chill in the air. Casavir remained that way, motionless, searching the trees with his eyes.

"Casavir." the echoing, deep male voice came from all around him and he spun, sword at the ready before him.

"Who are you?! What do you want with me! Show yourself and meet your death!"

"You would slay me without just cause?"

"Luskan traitors need no cause to be executed!"

"You speak as though you know exactly who I am, when you do _not_!" There was anger building in the voice now, and Casavir turned in circles trying to find the source of it.

"I know enough! Now show yourself demon dog!"

There was a tingling in the air, and lightning shot down from the sky and struck the ground beside him. It wrapped around his sword and flung it far into the forest. Growing desperate and more enraged, Casavir reached for the nearest object, a large stone, and threw it at the next bolt. The ground trembled with each strike, and the knight screamed obscenities as the bolts began to toss him hither and yon.

"You cannot fight me, knight!" The voice bellowed. "Yield!"

"Never!" screamed Casavir. "You will have to kill me before I let you take me back there!"

He never saw the next bolt until it hit him square in the chest and threw him several feet, the electrical field zapping every cell in his body. He cried out in pain and fear, then there was a flash of brilliant light, and blackness.


End file.
